


remember the day (‘cause this is what dreams should always be)

by iPhone



Series: remember the day [1]
Category: Pitch Perfect (Movies)
Genre: Amnesia, Angst, F/F, Memory Loss, Romance, Trauma
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-08
Updated: 2018-08-08
Packaged: 2019-06-06 23:47:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 42,354
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15206153
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iPhone/pseuds/iPhone
Summary: Amnesia AU: Beca and Chloe learn what it means to really hear what your heart is trying to tell you, even when you seem to have lost your way. Angst warning.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Based off the prompt I received on [Tumblr](http://isthemusictoblame.tumblr.com): “You deserve better than me.” and can it be angsty?

 

Beca tries not to listen to the sound of the bustling around her. Tries not to listen to other moments of anguish and pain. She has enough for two lifetimes.

She looks up at the sound of footsteps, removing her headphones. It’s not like she was listening to music anyway.

Sympathy.

“She’s awake.”

 

* * *

 

_**one.** _

Cut me down, but it's you who'll have further to fall  
Ghost town and haunted love  
_Raise your voice, sticks and stones may break my bones  
_ I'm talking loud, not saying much

 

* * *

 

 

Chloe Beale has a way of worming her way into people’s lives, that much is true. It’s something Beca recognizes in her the moment they meet. The moment Beca feels Chloe’s eyes boring into her from across the quad, she’s helpless, making her way over to Aubrey and Chloe and reluctantly taking the proffered flyer.

She thinks about those ridiculously blue eyes for the next week or so, wondering if she’ll ever actually see her again. She learns that her name is Chloe from Luke, of all people. She ignores Jesse’s curious questions about why she wants to know and whether she’s going to _join_ an a capella team.

God, she can’t imagine anything more terrible.

 

* * *

 

Beca has never heard harmonies quite like these before - at least, none that sent a thrill up her spine. She briefly allows herself to wonder how much of it has to do with how very much naked she is in a shower stall with another equally naked (and very attractive) woman.

Chloe is a force of nature. Beca finds herself drawn in, willingly.

She hasn’t quite listened to music before - not so organically and wholly in its base form. From Chloe’s equally wide-eyed expression, she figures it’s kind of the same.

It’s kind of on autopilot, the way they find their way together musically. Beca loves the way her voice sounds with Chloe’s - loves how easily Chloe adopts to her rendition of Titanium.

When Beca trails off, she takes in the very faint echo of their singing - the last vestiges of their shared music - and makes eye contact with Chloe. She wants to say something - anything. She wants to ask her if she wants to sing again, maybe if she wants to sing again over coffee or something stupid.

Instead, she lets her body move of its own accord and quickly tries to secure her shower again, awkwardly covering herself just in time for Chloe’s friend (boyfriend?) to interrupt them.

Beca blinks dazedly at the spot Chloe once occupied.

 

* * *

 

There’s a strange thrill rushing through her after the audition. She lies in bed, ignoring the sound of Kimmy Jin’s typing and stares blankly up at the ceiling until something kicks her ass into motion.

 **Beca (7:42 p.m.)  
** _Sorry I was late for the thing  
_ _for the audition...thing_

 **Chloe (7:45 p.m.)  
** Thanks for coming!  
_You were amazing.  
_ I’m so glad you didn’t realize you had to prepare a song. :P

Beca bites her lip, typing a response. She goes for honesty. Truthfulness.

 **Beca** **(7:46 p.m.)  
** _Honestly??  
__You deserve better than me if you want a shot this year._

Beca’s stress slowly rises as she waits for Chloe’s response.

 **Chloe (7:57 p.m.)  
** _You’re exactly what we need._

Re-reading that over and over again, it shudders through Beca’s system like the low bass of a song that echoes from one or two rooms over. She lets the reverb of the song carry her through, wondering if she has this and more to look forward to in University.

Beca never deletes the message.

 

* * *

 

**two.**

If I could find a way to see this straight  
I'd run away, to some fortune that  
_I, I should have found  
_ By now

 

* * *

 

 

The years in between being Chloe’s best friend and honest-to-God dating her feel like a blur to Beca. She wonders if she’ll ever recall something with such fond emotions than how she fell in love with Chloe slowly and surely only to realize that Chloe had just been waiting for her to catch up all this time.

“You know, I don’t deserve you,” Chloe mumbles, kissing her lips slowly, softly. Beca restrains her whimper, trying to hold tight to Chloe’s waist as best as she can while ensuring that they stay upright against the brick wall.

Chloe always finds herself on a high after concerts, the live music making her feel like she’s come alive again - like she’s just learned how to breathe for the first time.

Beca knows this feeling - it’s the feeling she gets when Chloe slides her arms around her waist and sways them gently to the music; it’s the feeling she gets when Chloe kisses her neck before humming into her ear and ensuring that Beca can feel the hum in her chest - the way it travels down her back. Beca slides her hands over Chloe’s arms and just holds on as best as she can.

“You deserve so much more,” Beca murmurs, nipping at her girlfriend’s lower lip. Chloe isn’t quite as restrained, opting to whine quietly into Beca’s mouth. “I love you,” Beca gets in, between increasingly passionate kisses.

And Chloe returns, as she always does, with “I love you, too, Beca.”

It’s so certain and sure. Beca isn’t sure how she missed it all those years ago. It’s a constant battle, warring inside her as she tries to reconcile her past with her present and how bright her future seems.

Dating Chloe is...incredible, to say the least. Beca wakes up every day with renewed energy and usually to the feeling of Chloe peppering kisses against her neck and face, coaxing her out of bed with the smell of coffee and the promise of a good day.

Concerts kind of become their thing, after the first couple of times. They find their favourite bands and musicians, uncaring of whether they’re at a smaller venue or an arena, and they sing along until their voices grow hoarse.

Chloe doesn’t care that she has to go in to work with a sore throat.

Beca doesn’t mind ignoring the other music execs for a day. She has the high of attending a concert with Chloe still running through her veins.

Now, Beca tilts her head, deepening the kiss. She stops Chloe’s hands from wandering too far underneath her jacket, lest she cops a feel where she can’t afford her to at the moment. She can practically feel Chloe’s pout against her lips, but she acquiesces and tugs at Beca’s hands instead.

“Let’s go home,” she suggests.

Beca plays with the ring in her jacket pocket, wondering why she was ever afraid of finding the perfect time.

Every moment with Chloe is perfect, so long as she has more and more memories to look forward to.

 

* * *

 

_**three.** _

Now the waves they drag you down  
Carry you to broken ground  
Though I'll find you in the sand  
_Wipe you clean with dirty hands  
_ So god damn this boiling space

 

* * *

 

 

When Beca receives the call, she’s at work. She’s working on a production for a new band, just recently signed to the label. She’s working on ensuring that the music flows, that chord progressions are just that cusp of addictive and melodic.

Her ringtone startles her out of her reverie. She scowls and puts it on silent.

She’s only just starting on another song when her coworker opens the door, wide-eyed and breathless. Beca takes off her headphones slowly, music fading.

“Yeah, Brett?” she asks, arching an eyebrow. “I’m kind of busy, dude.”

“It’s - it’s Chloe.”

Beca frowns. “What did she want?”

“No, no. God, Beca -” he looks stricken. “You need to go to the hospital. Beca,” he says, sympathy colouring his tone. Beca immediately hates it. “I’m so sorry.”

“No,” she says, unsure where her voice goes momentarily.

In fact, she’s sure she just repeatedly repeats “no” over and over again until she’s standing in front of a sympathetic-looking doctor - God, she hates sympathy.

“She didn’t deserve this,” she mutters angrily, turning to face Aubrey. “She didn’t fucking deserve this.”

Aubrey is quiet, at a loss for words. “Nobody does,” she says finally. “Especially not Chloe. Especially not you.”

Beca cries for the first time in years.

 

* * *

 

 

The doctor suggests that talking to Chloe might stimulate her brain activity. He then proceeds to hand her a small bag of Chloe’s things, including her phone, wallet, and engagement ring.

Beca can barely bring herself to look at how Chloe looks, clad in pale blue, with even paler skin.

“Talk to you?” she asks quietly, sitting by Chloe’s bedside. “What do you want to talk about?” She fiddles with her phone, opening a playlist. “This is your playlist, you know. God, you have some depressing songs on here.”

She rests her chin on her hand after setting her phone by Chloe’s bedside table, making sure the music isn’t too loud.

She wants to know what Chloe thought about this song. Why she was even listening to it, to begin with.

She wants to hear Chloe’s voice, or at least, a hum - an indication that she feels the music keenly; an indication that she’s _alive_ and _present_.

Still, she knows Chloe’s there. Chloe and music are intertwined - how could they not be?

“Please,” Beca whispers, her voice getting lost in the sound of the music echoing quietly from her phone.

She wants a reply. A sign.

Instead, all Beca gets is a slow, repetitive beeping sound.

 

* * *

 

When Chloe fully wakes up, Beca is already waiting by her bedside.

Blue eyes flutter open.

“Chloe,” she chokes out. “Oh, thank God.” She reaches for Chloe’s find. “I love you.”

Beca’s mind already finishes the reply, but the force of Chloe’s reply knocks her to the wayside. Four equally small words, yet not the ones Beca expects.

Chloe’s brow furrows, both in pain and confusion. “Wait, who are you?”

When Chloe wakes up, she asks Beca who she is and whether she can get her parents.

When Chloe wakes up, Beca’s life comes to a screeching halt.

 

* * *

 

_**four.** _

_I can force a laugh_  
_I can dance and play the part_  
_If that's what you ask  
Give you all I am_

 

* * *

 

 

Beca can’t sleep. She can kind of hear movement from the guest bedroom, so she assumes Chloe is the same.

This is nothing new. Chloe hasn’t been able to sleep without the aid of drugs since she’d woken up in the hospital and often, when she finally manages to find momentary peace, it is all interrupted by nightmares.

Despite it all, the nightmares are just nightmares, not Chloe regaining her memories by some supernatural force. It makes Beca’s heart hurt so much at the thought that Chloe doesn’t want her comfort or support - at least, not in the same way she used to.

Chloe stands tentatively in front of Beca’s bedroom door, raising a hand and poised to knock. She feels badly that she doesn’t really remember the other woman, despite being told by countless people that they were very much in love. Chloe thinks of the engagement ring that rests on the dresser in her room, the one she couldn’t bring herself to wear because it feels wrong to be engaged to a person she can’t remember.

It’s not that she can’t see herself falling in love with Beca. There’s a part of her that truly believes that she is very much capable of falling in love with Beca all over again - at least, with some time. She sees how much it pains Beca, however, and the way she tentatively moves around Chloe, like she’s afraid any sudden movement will spook her. She sees how hurt Beca is when she instinctively flinches away from her touch.

She wants to work on it.

Chloe thinks that she and Beca have been—well, they’ve been trying to get to know each other all over again.

It’s strange and awkward.

It’s mostly heartbreaking.

Chloe can see how much Beca loves her. It’s in the way Beca looks at her and how lost she looks when Chloe just can’t bring that same level of emotion to her eyes. Her headaches have been getting worse, so it’s even harder to make sense of her own feelings more than ever.

She wishes that she could remember their relationship - and how Beca proposed - the way Beca so obviously wants her to, but everything is still frustratingly blank and empty and hollow.

Chloe has to admit...there have been flashes of _something_ —not memories, not yet. But an occasional sense of familiarity that Chloe can’t place or explain when she wanders through their home. Sometimes she brushes her hand over a pair of Beca’s headphones or a jacket hanging in the front closet and she’s struck with a warmth that infinitely relaxes her.

It’s that same familiarity and security that brings her to Beca’s - their? - bedroom door.

She puts her hand on the doorknob, almost opening it on instinct that she can’t quite place, but she realizes she doesn’t really have the right to walk into Beca’s bedroom unannounced, especially not in the middle of the night.

She knocks quietly, wondering if the foreign sensation has to do with her never having ever knocked before.

(Beca had actually done that - burst into her room - to her a week ago when she heard Chloe in the midst of one of her painful, non-descript nightmares.

Beca’s presence had been calming, so Chloe had asked tentatively asked her to stay, basking in the warmth of another person - perhaps a warmth specific to Beca Mitchell - for that night.

She wants to feel that way again.)

A long moment of silence passes, and Chloe shakes her head. She’s just about to turn away from the door when it suddenly opens to reveal a concerned and frantic-looking Beca.

“What’s wrong?” she asks immediately; worriedly. “Are you okay?”

Chloe swallows heavily, taking in Beca’s disheveled appearance with her mussed hair and wrinkled, loose t-shirt. She shakes her head. “Nothing’s wrong. I just…I can’t sleep.”

Dark blue eyes lock onto her with pain and sympathy. “Is it...nightmares?”

“Yes, kind of,” Chloe admits. She had woken herself up just before it got too bad, but “I haven’t been able to fall back asleep.”

Beca nods slowly, biting her lower lip in a manner that Chloe finds herself drawn to. Beca pretends not to notice. “Do you want to…um…come in and talk about uh...dogs?” she asks, furrowing her brow.

Taking a breath, Chloe seems to battle with something internally.

Beca waits, as patiently as she can.

“Can I just...sleep next to you?” Beca’s breath catches at that - trying not to physically show how hard her heart is thrumming in her chest. “Doctor Forham suggested it might work,” Chloe clarifies.

Beca tries not to let her disappointment show, but it’s progress nonetheless. She nods, choosing to remain silent and opens her door further.

Glancing down, Chloe slowly makes her way into their - Beca’s - bedroom.

“Do you want to listen to something?” Chloe suggests tentatively. “You...you like music, right?”

Beca swallows, nodding. The question is painful in every way. She fiddles with her phone, trying to ignore the way Chloe tries to get comfortable in bed, as if it’s a foreign experience to her. When she glances back over, she sees Chloe reclining comfortably into her pillows, a sight so familiar that it makes Beca’s chest ache.

Christina Perri’s “Human” begins to play.

Beca averts her eyes from the sight.

She doesn’t dwell - she can’t, lest she starts to cry again - and flicks off her light, letting the soft music wash over her.

“I like this song,” Chloe says faintly, on the verge of sleep already.

A million things run through Beca’s mind. She wants to ask Chloe what she likes about the song - whether she’d like to sing it with her, for old times’ sake. She wants to ask Chloe if she’d like to hear the story about how Beca drunkenly sang this song to her at a karaoke night shortly before kissing her and finally confessing her feelings.

Beca thinks of all the things she could have said - should have said long before the accident. She wonders if Chloe remembers how they’d drive with the windows down, screaming song lyrics. Holding hands. Running their fingers through each other’s hair.

_I love you._

_Please, come back to me._

_I’m sorry._

“Goodnight,” she whispers, long after Chloe has fallen asleep.

 

* * *

 

 

_**five.** _

Hey now, is it the dawn or the end?  
The hours we talked  
You wished we'd stopped  
Acting like it's nothing at all

 

* * *

 

The headaches have been getting worse. Chloe can barely manage to spend time awake from how often she wakes up in the middle of the night, screaming.

It takes its toll on both of them, that much Chloe can tell. She sees the circles under Beca’s eyes, sees the number of missed calls on Beca’s phone from work because of all the time she spends at home _with_ Chloe in hopes that she’ll remember.

And how desperately Chloe wants to remember.

Beca is an...incredible woman.

Chloe thinks that being in love with Beca might be the easiest thing to do, amidst everything.

But Chloe can also tell that Beca is holding on to some kind of hope that _her_ Chloe will come back - the Chloe that is so far inside her brain that she’s not sure she exists anymore.

It hurts, more than it should, realizing that she can’t give Beca what she wants.

So on a Sunday morning, Chloe sits down with a steaming mug of tea for herself and a coffee - one sugar - for Beca.

“Thanks,” Beca murmurs, eyes fixated on the table in front of her. She’s not sure what Chloe wanted to talk about. She feels like all her nerves are fried, like she’s on the edge of something, but she’s not quite sure which way she’s going to fall.

Their Bluetooth speaker plays quietly in the background.

Sitting at their kitchen table, Beca thinks that she just closes her eyes, she can imagine that it’s just another Sunday morning. At any moment, Chloe will playfully nudge her leg with her foot and ask her if she’s going to spend all day lounging in her pajamas. At any moment, Chloe will kiss her cheek and comb her fingers through Beca’s hair.

At any moment, Chloe will-

“You deserve better than me,” Chloe whispers, reaching out to brush her hand briefly over Beca's hand. It is simultaneously warm and cold. Beca shivers, but resists tugging her hand away completely. She forces herself to look up at her - her better half, her soulmate, her _Chloe_.

Except it’s not and Chloe hasn’t been _Chloe_ since the accident.

Still, the words ring in Beca’s memory like the faint whisper of a fading dream.

“What?” she manages to say, voice catching on the question.

“I mean…” Chloe sighs, hunching her shoulders a little. The music plays, steady percussion quiet and oppressive in Beca's chest. “I can’t...I feel like I’m holding you back,” she murmurs. “I can’t _remember_ anything past my third year of university. I…” Chloe bites her lip, sitting up more fully and bringing her knees up to her chest. She wraps her arms around her bent legs. “I can’t remember being in love with you,” she whispers.

Beca scrambles to sit up straighter too, feeling something that she’s not quite getting - it’s slipping through her fingers and she’s struggling to keep her grasp on reality. “You d-don’t have to be in love with me,” Beca whimpers, hating herself for how weak she sounds; hating herself for knowing how untrue it is. She needs Chloe’s love on some level, having lived with it and having basked in it for the past two years.

Two and a half blissful years. More, maybe, if Beca had been stronger sooner.

Chloe sighs, rubbing her face with her hands. “It’s...temporary,” she assures. “I need to move home and be with my parents. My family. It'll help, we think.”

Beca bites the inside of her cheek so hard that she can taste blood. It makes her blood run cold that Chloe no longer considers her family.

The music seems to fade to nothing.

It makes her heart shatter even further that Chloe no longer wants to just be with her - a far cry from just a few short weeks ago where she had fallen asleep comfortably next to Beca; a far cry from the false security and comfort Beca finally managed to find after two long months of wondering whether Chloe would finally wake up and then realizing that the love of her life no longer remembered who she was _at all_.

“Beca?” Chloe asks softly. Tentatively. Like she’s afraid that Beca’s a ticking bomb.

“Yeah,” Beca manages to rasp out. “Yeah, that’s...okay. You should do that.”

And…

She exchanges one weight on her chest for another.

Silence.

 

* * *

 

_fin._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Songs in order:
> 
> (title) Losing Your Memory - Ryan Star;  
> Titanium - David Guetta ft. Sia;  
> Cough Syrup - Young the Giant;  
> Spanish Sahara - Foals;  
> Human - Christina Perri;  
> I Saw You Close Your Eyes - Local Natives


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Snippets/Continuation of how Beca and Chloe begin to navigate their lives after Chloe’s accident.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So...I got a lot of requests for a continuation both on AO3 and on Tumblr. Here is a continuation.

“Beca…why do you still love me?”

Beca looks up at that and the sheer shock and hurt on her face makes Chloe recoil. She means no harm by the question, but it nags at her whenever she’s not being buffeted by migraines.

“Chloe,” she murmurs, voice sticking in her throat.

Beca looks small – smaller than usual, Chloe thinks briefly – as she sits, shoulders drawn up, and hands fiddling nervously with her phone. It makes something rise up in Chloe instinctively. It makes her want to hug Beca. Hold her hand.

“I’m sorry,” Chloe says quickly. “I just thought…I don’t know what I thought. I wanted to know, I guess. I’ve been thinking about it.”

“You have?” Beca asks, hope colouring her tone. “Does that mean-”

“-It means that I’m trying,” Chloe stresses. She draws her cardigan around her shoulders further, averting her eyes. She can’t imagine staring into Beca’s eyes and not feeling like she’s about to burst into tears at any moment.

Beca is quiet for a moment. Then, she takes a deep breath.

“I love you because I can’t imagine anything else, Chlo.”

It’s so quiet that Chloe almost misses it.

“Beca,” she says quietly. “God, I-”

“I love you because you make everything better. You make everything feel like it finally makes sense.” Beca inhales shakily. “I just…realized all those years ago when you first pulled me into the Bellas, you were just pulling me into your orbit and I haven’t regretted anything about it.” Beca starts to cry in earnest. “I haven’t regretted falling in love with you. I haven’t regretted anything about dating you, loving you, and planning a future with you. I just regret that we didn’t have enough time.”

Emotions flare up inside Chloe at that moment. She feels sympathy, passion, love, adoration, but also-

Anger.

It melds frustratingly with the lingering pain in her head – the on and off flares of agony that she gets because she just can’t…fucking…remember. She doesn’t get to feel these things because she doesn’t even remember meeting Beca. She doesn’t remember meeting Beca at Barden. She remembers acapella and Aubrey and singing, but she doesn’t remember how Beca changed her life.

She’s angry because Beca is alone in this … this _sham_ of an engagement. Are they even still engaged? Chloe had given a tearful Beca her ring back because it felt cheap to hold on to something that meant nothing - but _everything_ \- to her. Chloe sure as hell can’t remember getting engaged to this woman in front of her.

Despite that, she has learned a lot about Beca over the past two and a half months of being apart from her. She has learned that Beca makes beautiful, beautiful music. Beca is supremely talented and she works hard at her job when finds time to do so.

She has also learned that Beca is steadfast and loyal. Beca never wavers; she perseveres through tremendous hardships. She is loving – so loving – and kind.

It is so easy to be in love with Beca Mitchell.

But Chloe is still angry.

She’s angry at everything that has brought them to this point. Why does Beca get to hurt so much? Especially when all Chloe feels are remnants of what she imagines their relationship could have been.

Whenever she looks at Beca and sees the sheer pain she’s putting her through, all Chloe feels is guilt that weighs down on her.

“I love you for everything that makes you who you are, Chloe,” Beca says in an infuriatingly gentle and soft voice. “I love you because you’re you and I’m me and this is just how it always has been.”

Chloe isn’t sure whether wants to scream or cry to herself, or maybe even at Beca to go away or beg for her forgiveness. She wants to kiss her or - or ask her to hold her awhile and hope it will all finally feel as right as she deserves.

The dam breaks.

“I don’t even know who…” she says, choking on a sob. “Who am I?”

“It’s okay,” Beca tells her, eyes shining with more unshed tears. Chloe thinks irrationally that Beca somehow still looks beautiful.

Chloe’s thoughts stutter and she lands somewhere between  _I’m so sorry_  and  _I want to be better…for you._

Beca is still speaking. Chloe tunes back in.

“You’re Chloe Beale. And I will always love you and whatever it means to be Chloe…for you.”

 

* * *

 

That’s one of the last interactions Chloe has with Beca before she makes the decision to move back home.

She holds it close to her and draws strength from that interaction. Beca’s steadfast belief in her and her capabilities and their love for each other is inspiring to say the least.

Moving home, she feels a heavy comfort settle over her, like a too-warm blanket.

Her parents engulf her in a hug the moment they collect her from Departures. “We’re so happy you’re home,” her father whispers, kissing her forehead.

“Me too,” she manages to whimper after being engulfed by her mother. She buries her face into familiar skin. “Me too.”

 

* * *

 

She heaves a breath at how her room hasn’t really changed from what she vaguely remembers. It throws her at the thought that she has been out of school for about three years…if she doesn’t count the three extra years she spent at school.

She spent six years pining after Beca Mitchell.

Beca’s face swims into her mind again and she groans at the onslaught of emotions it causes to well up inside her.

How frustrating.

She’s unloading her shirts into her dresser when there’s a knock on her door. She looks up to see her brother, apparently visiting from Denver.

“Nicky,” she greets happily, rushing into his arms. “Mom and dad didn’t tell me you were here!”

He holds her tightly and she feels some weight lift off her shoulders momentarily. “I’m so sorry I couldn’t see you when you first got out of the hospital.”

“It’s okay,” she says, quickly swiping at tears. “I’m just so happy to have some normal…shit in my life.”

He sits on her desk chair, spinning to face her as she settles onto her bed, still hastily swiping at lingering tears. “How’s…Beca?” he asks slowly. Tentatively. Like he’s afraid she’ll crack at any moment.

It drives her  _crazy._

“Beca wishes that she could be there every step of the way,” Chloe mutters.

Nick looks sympathetic. “She cares about you.” He stops short of saying she loves you and Chloe knows it.

“I just want to remember things like everybody else seems to remember. How does everybody remember my life but I can’t? How is that fair?”

“I don’t know,” he responds, moving to sit next to her on her bed. She draws her knees up to her chest, pressing her eyes onto her knees. “I do know that you have so many people who care about you, okay, little sis?”

She muffles a small, watery laugh. “Like you?” she teases, recalling all the times their parents got on his case for being irresponsible. She can’t believe she can’t even remember all the years that he spent growing up. Becoming a man.

“Like me. Like mom and dad. Like Aubrey. Like Marshmallow,” he says, referring to the aging family cat. He pauses, sliding an arm around her shoulders lovingly. “Like Beca.”

It echoes in Chloe’s head, reverberating through her skull.

_Like Beca._

 

* * *

 

Beca is lying on the couch listening to music and fiddling with Chloe’s engagement ring (which she has taken to wearing around her neck on a chain) when Aubrey bursts into her house and literally tries to shove food into her mouth.

“Chloe would hate it if she knew you were starving yourself, Beca,” Aubrey gripes. She’s stuffing frozen lasagnas into her freezer.

Beca doesn’t say anything, sipping slowly at the tea Aubrey placed in front of her. She had received a brief, albeit sweet, email she received from Chloe letting her know that she landed in Portland safe and sound. She even attaches a photo of what the trees look like from her bedroom window, as if Beca hadn’t seen that exact view before from multiple visits to see Chloe’s parents.

She supposes that in Chloe’s world, she hasn’t met Chloe’s parents.

 _Beautiful,_  she writes back.  _I hope you’re doing alright._

“Beca?”

Aubrey is still there. “What?”

“Don’t you think you should…go back to work?” Aubrey’s nose wrinkles a bit when Beca looks up to stare at her blankly. “And maybe clean up around here?”

As much as Beca wants to lash out, she knows this is just Aubrey being helpful. Accommodating. Caring.

“I guess I can,” she grumbles, pushing herself away from the kitchen table.

Aubrey comes around the table to put a hand firmly on her shoulder. She points at Beca’s plate. “Not until you finish eating,” she instructs.

Beca sighs.

Aubrey watches her with a critical eye until she scrapes the last bit of tomato sauce from her plate. Beca considers full-on licking the plate under Aubrey’s scrutiny.

“Beca, I just want you to know that if you happen to need somebody to talk to about…anything, I’m here for you. You can call me, email me, text me…or just ask me to come over. I will do my best.” Aubrey’s voice grows quiet. “We all need each other, okay?”

“She remembers Tom, you know,” Beca spits out instead of responding.

Aubrey pauses. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, she remembers him because she was  _fucking_  him in your Junior year. Don’t you remember?”

“Why would I remember that?” Aubrey demands.

“I don’t know - she just offhandedly mentioned it to her doctor a while back.” Beca begins shredding a napkin. “I overheard them when I came to pick her up from her appointment.”

“She was probably just catching him up on everything she remembered,” Aubrey placates.

“What if she falls in love with somebody else?” Beca asks weakly. “She…she could fall in love with somebody else.”

“Beca, she just needs time.” Aubrey looks concerned at Beca’s topic jumps.

The small pile of napkin bits grows larger. “Time,” Beca mutters. Her eyes threaten to spill over then. “It’s unfair that she remembers you, you know?” she whispers. “It just so happened that the cut off date was right before she met me. That’s just fucking fantastic. I bet you’re delighted.” The words spew out of her before she can help herself.

Aubrey recoils, as if struck. “Beca, you know that’s not true. I’m devastated that this happened to Chloe and to you. You two are my family.”

“But Chloe remembers you,” Beca repeats. “She remembers how shitty you were to her and how you vomited all over the fucking audience, but she doesn’t remember me. Hell, she probably remembers more acapella puns than anything significant about me.”

“Beca, that’s just…unfair to me  _and_  Chloe.” Aubrey’s patience is growing thin quickly. Beca tries not to waver. “You know she’s doing her best. Anybody can see how much you two are meant for each other. Even recently, she is more attached to you than anybody else in her life. Yes,” Aubrey states firmly. “Myself included.”

“I’m sorry,” Beca sobs, breaking. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean any of that. You’re not a terrible person. Mostly.”

Aubrey ignores that. “I just want you to be okay, Beca. I want you to be whole when Chloe finally finds her way back to you.”

That only makes Beca cry harder.

“What if she falls in love with somebody else?” she whimpers, staining Aubrey’s shirt with tears.

The thought terrifies her.

“Then she falls in love with somebody else,” Aubrey replies steadily. “But you still need to live your life. You know she’d never forgive you.”

Whether it’s the Chloe that Beca knows and remembers or the Chloe that just doesn’t remember anything about Beca, she’s not sure. She’s not sure that it matters anyway.

Beca’s not sure if she’s ever going to be whole again, but she’s going to give it a shot.

 

* * *

 

Chloe is greedily rifling through her shelves and desk drawers.

Two months into living at home and she’s still acclimatizing to things.

It’s odd having gaps in her memory. The therapist and specialist have been working with her carefully, monitoring any steps she’s taken to regain some sense of her missing years.

Thus far, she has a few shadowy memories that hazily linger at the forefront of her mind before disappearing completely in a wave of light-to-medium migraines or nightmares.

She figures that the nightmares must mean something, considering that they feature so prominently in her sleep. As if something’s stopping her from reaching a locked door.  _Or treasure chest._

She reread  _Treasure Island_  recently.

In fact, all she’s been doing is reading. She reads about head injuries; she catches up on celebrity gossip; she tries to figure out what to do with her life now that she doesn’t really have a career anymore.

At present, Chloe is looking for old notebooks, binders, or anything she can find. She supposes a lot of her stuff - at least, anything that’s still relevant - is still at her home in Los Angeles. Beca’s home.

 _Their_ home.

It still feels hollow inside her chest whenever she hears people like her parents and her brother and Aubrey talking about Beca with such ease as if they’ve known her their whole lives. As if Beca has been such a significant part of Chloe’s life.

They show her mountains of pictures - old snippets of her life with Beca. The Bellas. Performing. All the things she loves, but nothing sticks. They just fade into obscurity after a few moments. Nothing really strikes any particular memory, though she somehow gets the phrase “ear monstrosities” stuck in her head when she sees a photo that highlighted a number of Beca’s piercings on her left ear. It makes her chuckle.

Chloe tugs an odd-looking book from her shelf, flipping it between her hands. She weighs it in her hands, wondering if she should open it.

Instead, she brings it out carefully to the kitchen, holding it up so her mother can see it. “Hey,” she greets. “Mom?”

Her mother chances a glance over, seeing the album in her hands. “What’s that, honey?”

“What is this?” Chloe asks, turning the photo album over in her hands. It’s something that she can’t quite remember seeing before. She lets her mother pluck the album out of her hands before she can fully open it. “Is this Nick’s?”

Helen gazes at her carefully before setting the album down on the kitchen island between them. “It’s yours,” she says carefully. “It’s something you and Beca left here for us after you got engaged.”

Chloe freezes, hand hesitating over the cover.

Can she handle seeing that?

“Engagement photos,” she murmurs once it clicks.

“You don’t have to look at them, baby,” Helen says sadly. “I’m sorry, I should have put it away.”

“No,” Chloe says quickly. “I…can I just hold on to it? I don’t think I’m ready,” she admits. “I’ll…” she trails off, uncertain.

“Of course.”

Chloe carefully carries the album back up to her room and sets it beside her laptop. It has a beautiful wooden cover, intricately designed with floral decorations and music notes.

It’s simple, yet elegant, but entirely romantic.

Chloe finds herself curious for the first time instead of morose or angry. She figures she should congratulate her future self - herself? - for landing somebody so in tune with her. So willing to partake in sappy, romantic gestures.

The curiosity burns through her and she swallows the sudden lump in her throat. She wants to know the story behind everything - she wants to know everything. It feels cheapened without Beca there to help the experience, however.

She quickly puts the album in her drawer, hoping to forget about it for the time being.

When she sleeps, she dreams of Beca - one that’s not riddled with nightmares, finally. She dreams of a warm campfire and the comfort of her friends.

And Beca’s right there beside her.

_I’m scared and confused, but it’s okay because I know you’re there with me._

 

* * *

 

Doctor Lin watches her carefully from across the coffee table. “How are you doing today, Chloe? You seem…more pensive than usual.”

“I…I’m dreaming about things more,” Chloe says hesitantly, trying to find the words. “Not really anything memorable, but they’re not quite…nightmares.”

“That sounds promising. What can you remember?”

“I dreamt about…doing homework.” She scrunches her nose up. “Like, working on stuff in the school library.”

Doctor Lin arches her eyebrow. “Barden?”

“I think so? I mean, it didn’t…it didn’t look like high school.”

“That’s good. What else can you remember?”

“I mean, it was just homework, right? What does that mean?”

“Nothing definitive, I can say that much. This is the first time in months that you’ve had anything more than just remembering fragments of your accident.”

“Why can’t I remember B-Barden? More…things that happened at school? That’s a whole four years of my life, at least.”

“Head injuries are tricky,” Doctor Lin says gently. “There’s so much going on in the human brain that it’s not completely predictable or immediately treatable.” She places her clipboard down, turning her attention to Chloe fully. “You know…that there is a chance that you won’t get any of your memories back, right?”

Chloe nods, swallowing the lump in her throat.

“What else have you been up to?”

“I dreamt about Beca,” Chloe says quietly. “Just a couple weeks ago. It felt real. Like I could…remember some of the emotions.”

“What kinds of emotions?”

Chloe blushes. “I, um, I guess friendship. Love,” she adds softly. “Like I could…have been. Like I am.”

“I understand this is a confusing time for you and that you’re probably feeling really frustrated and upset. Have you talked to Beca about this?”

“Won’t that be more confusing and upsetting?”

“Does Beca make you confused and upset?”

“I…not…I don’t know. She doesn’t really make me _upset._ ” It's all the associated feelings that make her upset. The feelings that she doesn't know if she has a right to feel anymore.

“Do you want to talk to Beca?”

Chloe nods hesitantly.

Doctor Lin smiles gently at her. “You can try calling her.”

“What if she doesn’t want to talk to me?” Chloe asks, on instinct more than anything. She blushes immediately after because she knows how untrue that is - how Beca wants to talk to her more than anything.

To her credit, Doctor Lin doesn’t laugh or even look like she’s fighting back a laugh at how ridiculous Chloe’s being. She just smiles, gentle as ever, and tilts her head. “Have you tried already?”

 

* * *

 

_“Enough about the worlds!” Beca shouts. It’s harsh. Directed at her._

_Everything feels too loud. Too sensitive._

_Chloe wants to clap her hands over her ears, but she can’t because all she can see is Beca walking away from her._

When Chloe comes blinks open her eyes, everything still feels too loud and too sensitive. She rubs quickly at the tears that have gathered in her eyes and sits up straight with a gasp. She apparently passed out at her desk, slipping easily into a memory.

_Or a nightmare?_

She writes it down quickly, ignoring the pain the flares from somewhere inside her chest.

 

* * *

 

A phone call.

Chloe hates phone calls. Talking over the phone. There’s always an awkwardness she never manages to overcome.

“I kind of miss L.A.,” Chloe admits. She chews her lip for a moment. “The weather was nice.”

Beca chuckles. “It _is_ pretty nice here.”

Chloe lets the sound wash over her before she tests the waters. “I miss you, if I’m being totally honest.”

“I miss you too,” Beca says softly. Instantaneously. “I miss you a lot. The house feels kind of empty, truthfully.”

“What if…” Chloe trails off, holding the phone closer to her ear. She closes her eyes, wondering if she’s going to flake out.

“I can…come visit,” Beca says, hopefully. She takes the words right out of Chloe’s mouth. “I won’t take up any space at all, I promise.”

“Not like you could,” Chloe replies instinctively. “You’re tiny.” Beca’s sharp inhale tells her it’s something worth noting. “What?” she asks quickly. “Bec, what is it?” The nickname slides off her tongue naturally.

“Nothing,” Beca says quickly. Quietly. “I just…haven’t heard that in a while.”

“What?” Chloe inquires. “What was it?”

“Tiny. Bec. Just…the little things.”

Chloe feels a smile growing. “Okay.” She oddly feels like a teenager again.

“So, uh, what have you been up to?”

“I’ve been helping my mom with gardening. Helping my dad with some work. Reading a lot! I guess I’m catching up on what happened … basically everywhere, over the past couple of years.” Chloe laughs, running a hand over her face. It sounds crazy. “What about you?”

“That’s…more productive than I’ve been,” Beca says with a self-deprecating laugh. “I mean, I guess I’ve been putting in more studio time than strictly necessary.” There’s rustle as if Beca’s reclining back on her bed further. The image sends butterflies through Chloe’s body. “What…what are we doing, Chloe?”

“Talking,” Chloe states confusedly. “We’re just…talking.”

Beca is quiet for a moment, simply breathing over the line. Chloe counts her breaths. “Do you want me to come visit you? In Portland?” she asks, finally.

“I think I’d like that,” Chloe whispers, finally feeling something settle into place inside her chest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, come visit me on [Tumblr](http://isthemusictoblame.tumblr.com/). I actually have a lot of one-shots stored there that don't make it here!
> 
> Thanks for reading.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The beginning of Beca's trip to Portland.

It’s about one-and-a-half weeks before Beca’s scheduled visit to Portland.

Chloe is picking up some groceries from the New Seasons just outside her neighbourhood. As much as she likes these menial tasks her parents send her on, she longs for something more.

She doesn’t want to know about the life and career she left behind in Los Angeles, despite her parents’ encouragement that she reach out to her professors and supervisors.

She shakes her head at the thought.

 

 

* * *

 

 

_“What...what do I do?” Chloe asks hesitantly. She plays nervously with the fringe of her blanket. She remembers finishing her third year at Barden. She doesn’t remember knowing what she wanted to do with the rest of her life at that stage._

_Beca is nervous, hesitant. “Maybe I should...get Aubrey. Or your parents.”_

_Chloe’s nerves have been worn thin since waking up and discovering that she has an entire six years of life to catch up on. It’s odd thinking that she’s twenty-one when she’s really on the verge of turning twenty-seven._

_It’s odd thinking that she’s engaged to this woman in front of her._

_Despite it all, she trusts Beca, almost instinctively. That instinct is something she grapples to hold on to - the only solid foothold she has in this whole mess._

_“No,” she says, when Beca gets up. “I...I think you’d know best,” she admits slowly._

_Beca has never tried to push her or guilt her into remembering their love, these past couple of weeks in the hospital. Chloe sees hope shining through her._

_“Okay,” Beca says, rubbing her palms on her jeans nervously as she sits back down. “I’m here for you.”_

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Chloe sighs heavily.

How is she supposed to return to her life when she doesn’t even know if she has the skills to do it?

_I’m afraid._

These bursts of fear aren’t new, but they still debilitate her. She grits her teeth, forcing her legs to move as she pushes down the aisle.

In the middle of the canned goods aisle, her phone dings with a message from her brother.

 **Nick (2:59 p.m.)**  
_chlo can you get me some of that soup i really like_  
the  
Uhh  
cheesy broccoli one

 **Chloe (3:00 p.m.)**  
_i remember the one  
I got u  <3_

Turning, she inspects the variety of  _Campbell’s_  soup cans lining the shelves. She frowns when she realizes there’s one lone can of Broccoli Cheese sitting on the topmost shelf, taunting her with its cheerful lettering.

She’s not the shortest person in the world, but her fingers still only manage to just graze the side of the can, inadvertently pushing it further back.

“Damnit,” she mutters, rocking back on her feet. She glances around, wondering if she can just climb into her cart and-

“I got that for you,” a voice says, startling her out of her reverie.

“Thank you,” she says, turning to her saviour. “My brother wouldn’t have let me live that down.”

He grins at her. “No problem. Really desperate for that soup, huh?” It’s a pleasant smile, friendly and inviting.

She blushes, mostly from embarrassment but a little bit of something else as well - something that makes her stomach twist slightly.

Chloe clears her throat. “Yeah, I guess he is.”

“What’s your favourite?” he asks, casually plucking a couple cans off the shelf.

“My favourite what?” she asks blankly.

“Soup.”

“Oh.” _Oh._ He’s teasing her. “I...can’t say I have a favourite,” she says lightly. She does smile in return, pleased at the distraction from her day.

“Well, maybe when you decide, you could shoot me a message and I can grab it from the top shelf for you?” he asks, slowly lifting his phone. He seems nervous, hesitant, and tentative.

Chloe can’t deny that she’s mildly attracted - quite attracted - to him; he’s tall, all dark hair and hazel eyes.

Still, she thinks of cobalt blue and gentle brown tresses as Beca’s face and name float into her mind.

Her head throbs.

“Okay,” she agrees, nonplussed by her own agreement. She tries not to let the wince show on her face even as her migraine begins to form. “I...I’m Chloe, by the way.”

“Matthew,” he says, gently reaching out to shake her hand. “Nice to meet you, Chloe.”

Chloe forgets about it a week later.

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Beca is a bundle of nerves and more on the flight. She wrings her hands nervously, unable to bring herself to listen to music even though she has her noise-cancelling headphones on.

She tells herself that seeing Chloe again will mean nothing. It’s just her concern for her not-fiancée. Her friend. Her best friend.

She heaves a breath.

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

_Aubrey and Fat Amy watch Beca sympathetically as she stuffs her jeans into her duffel._

_“Are you nervous?” Aubrey asks, plucking a shirt out of Beca’s grasp and folding it neatly._

_“That’s a silly question,” Amy tells her. “Of course she’s nervous. She’s meeting Chloe’s parents for the first time.”_

_Beca stares, confused. “No, I’m not. I’ve met them many times.”_

_“Yeah...but Red doesn’t know that, does she?” Amy flings one of Beca’s socks into her bag._

_Beca grits her teeth. “Thanks for the reminder, Amy.”_

_Aubrey looks at Fat Amy disapprovingly before turning her attention back to Beca. “Are you_ sure _you want to do this? Isn’t it too soon?”_

_“She said she wanted me to visit,” Beca says firmly. “I’m not going back on my promise to her.”_

_“Your feelings matter too, Beca,” Aubrey says gently. “Have you tried just telling her everything?”_

_“I’m not going to overwhelm her. I can’t.”_

_“Just two weeks ago, you told me your biggest fear was that Chloe would fall in love with somebody else,” Aubrey accuses._

_“Yeah, and just two weeks ago, you told me that it’d be fine if she did,” Beca shoots back. She hears a whispered “not cool,” from Amy and Aubrey’s ensuing huff._

_“I just...Beca are you sure you’re going to be okay on this trip?”_

_“Yes,” Beca enunciates. “I...I just have to see her, if anything. And if I spend some time with her in an environment where she feels comfortable, maybe I can eventually convince her that she can come back to Los Angeles. She needs to work on routine if she wants a shot at getting her memory back.”_

_“If_  you  _want a shot,” Aubrey corrects quietly._

_Beca swallows the lump in her throat and stares into her duffel bag._

_"Beca?" Beca turns to see that Amy looks serious. "Chloe will come around, you know that, right?"_

_"You know what? Everyone keeps telling me that,” Beca says slowly. “But I don't feel it."_

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

When Beca lands, she fully expects to be greeted by Chloe’s parents or brother.

Instead, she catches sight of a familiar head of hair and a radiant smile directed straight at her.

“Chloe,” she breathes, sliding her headphones off so they’re around her neck. She strides purposefully towards her, lugging her oversized duffel bag along the way.

“Hello,” Chloe greets, friendly, if not a little formal. “I hope you don’t mind. I wanted to come along to pick you up.”

Beca thinks that Chloe could wink and everything would feel like normal again. The slightly teasing lilt to her voice, the way her hair is swept to one-side and just slightly windswept and messy, the way her hands are stuffed nervously into her jean pockets....it endears Beca to Chloe more.

She has missed Chloe so much over the past few weeks. Their house feels empty and too silent. Beca feels like she could drown in that silence.

But now - standing in front of Chloe, she suddenly feels the most awake she has in a while.

“Here you are,” Beca says quietly. “Do we, uh,” she gestures awkwardly, blushing furiously when Chloe tilts her head, confused.

“Do we what?”

“I don’t know. Shake hands? Like a nice to see you again kind of thing?”

She doesn’t tell Chloe that her first impulse was to run into her arms and kiss her. That all she wants to do is wrap Chloe up in her arms and tell her how much she missed her; how much she  _loves_  her.

Chloe’s smile is gentle amidst her hesitance. “How about a hug?”

Beca drops her duffel and rushes straight into Chloe’s arms. She buries her nose into the soft fabric of her sweater and tries not to think about how simultaneously familiar and foreign this feels.

“Thank you,” Beca whispers, muffled against Chloe’s shoulder.

Chloe’s heart only races faster. She fights back the confusion and aggravation, focusing on enjoying how Beca feels in her arms. She swallows the lump in her throat and nods, cheek brushing against Beca’s hair. “Thank you,” she echoes before quickly pulling back.

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Beca climbs into the backseat of Nick’s Volvo after tossing her bag in the trunk. Chloe is fiddling with the radio, obnoxiously changing stations wildly much to Nick’s apparent chagrin.

“Just pick one, nerd,” he exclaims, laughing at Chloe’s antics. He grins, twisting to face Beca. “Beca Mitchell, how have you been?” He reaches around to hold a hand up for a high five. Beca rolls her eyes, but she appreciates at the normalcy.

She high fives him, but pauses when she catches the solemn expression on Chloe’s face.

“Uh, so are we just heading back to your place?” Beca asks, leaning back quickly.

“Yeah. Mom and dad wanted to have a nice dinner in. I figured you’d want to shower and settle in and stuff.”

Beca nods, trying to decide between staring out the window and staring surreptitiously at the side of Chloe’s head.

She settles on cautiously alternating between both, reflecting on the last time she was in Portland with Chloe, celebrating their engagement with her parents and close family friends.

_We were so happy._

She watches the light highlight the curve of Chloe’s nose, the arch of her cheekbone - only just barely restraining the long sigh that threatens to escape.

Chloe’s humming startles her from her morose thoughts. Beca’s eyes are drawn to the casual way Chloe has her legs crossed on her seat, remembering how long it took for Chloe to get back in a car, let alone sit comfortably.

Now, she’s humming, tapping on her thighs along with the rhythm.

Beca can’t deny that being in Portland has helped because this Chloe - this Chloe is miles away from the Chloe that Beca got back after the accident.

Unbidden, Beca sinks into a flashback.

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

_“Chlo!” Beca exclaims. “You can’t put your feet on my lap while I’m driving!”_

_Chloe groans. “Then let me drive!”_

_“You know you’re a pretty terrible driver, right? Like, that’s actually a thing. You’re a terrible driver.”_

_“I’m so offended that you think I’m a terrible driver.”_

_“Okay!” Beca laughs, shoving Chloe’s foot away when she begins jabbing her thigh. “Okay, you’re not terrible. You just have a little bit of road rage. Other than that, you’re pretty careful.”_

_Chloe nods, moving her legs back to her side. “Thank you. It’s everybody else that’s terrible. I merely enforce the social norms.”_

_“Is that so?”_

_Chloe hushes her, turning up the volume on the radio. “I love this song,” she says, humming along._

_Beca rolls her eyes even as a blush rises up her neck. “You only love it because I wrote it.”_

_Chloe hums for a moment longer. “Of course, but it doesn’t mean that I don’t think it’s wonderful on its own.” She reaches across the console to cup Beca’s cheek. “You’re so talented, Bec,” she says quietly._

_Beca tilts her head, nuzzling into the palm of Chloe’s hand. “I love you,” she murmurs._

_Chloe brushes her hand through her hair. “I love you, too.”_

_She could spend the rest of her life riding in cars with this woman._

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Beca doesn’t realize she’s crying until she slowly fades back to reality. The reality where she has to remind herself that Chloe is years behind her.

She slowly wipes her cheeks hoping not to draw attention to herself. Glancing up at the mirror, she pauses when she feels Chloe’s eyes on her from the front seat. Chloe turns quickly when Beca meets her gaze.

Beca tries not to feel too hurt by that.

(She’ll wait if she has to. Chloe did.)

Chloe continues humming.

Beca doesn’t bother telling her that she wrote this song for her.

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Chloe pauses when Beca and Nick walk up to the porch together, chatting in a friendly manner.

If anything, it makes Chloe believe that Beca and Nick are close friends. It throws her for a loop, seeing that Beca knows her family with such intimacy and familiarity.

Her mother greets Beca with a hug and a kiss on the cheek. Her father does the same.

Chloe tilts her head, wondering how Beca had been when she first met her parents. In a kind of imaginative, twisted fantasy, she pictures Beca with an adorably nervous expression on her face, stuttering, but pushing herself to impress Chloe’s parents no matter what.

It makes her smile for a moment, but she only ends up feeling even worse because she hates that she can’t remember.

At dinner, all traces of crying are gone, but Beca thinks that Chloe couldn’t look more uncomfortable if she tried. She’s not sure how they got here from hugging each other at the airport like old friends.

Well, she kind of does know - Doctor Forham and Doctor Lin had mentioned that Chloe’s mood swings would likely come out in full force.

She watches the way Chloe pushes her food around on her place. While not completely sullen, there’s a quiet, serious aura about Chloe, which seems out of place for her usually cheerful disposition.

Beca supposes there’s not much to be cheerful about these days.

“How’s dinner, Beca?”

Chloe looks up at her mother’s question, watching Beca with curious eyes.

“It’s great,” Beca replies honestly. She locks eyes with Chloe. “Thanks for having me.”

“You’re very welcome, Beca. We’re happy to see you again. You’re practically family.”

Chloe winces at that and looks back down quickly. Beca sees her mouth the word ‘family’ though it’s without malice or disdain. Merely like she’s testing it out on her lips.

The embers of hope haven’t quite faded away.

Beca fans at them quickly. “Family,” she repeats quietly.

She sees Chloe glance at her.

After dinner, Beca and Chloe are attempting to help clean up, but are being warded off by Chloe’s parents.

“Chloe, why don’t you bring Beca to the guest room?” Chloe’s father suggests.

Nick smirks at Beca. “Ooh, the guest room.”

Beca’s blush reaches her forehead. Chloe scowls and swats him quickly.

“Nicholas, stop bothering them and let them get settled in,” her mother admonishes.

Chloe nods, satisfied with that reprimand. She reaches out to help Beca with her bag in the living room. “This is huge,” she mutters. “It’s larger than you are.”

Beca laughs at that. “Height jokes, huh, Beale?”

“I don’t think I’ll ever be short on those,” Chloe says.

Beca gapes at her for a moment, pausing before entering the room.

She tries not to think about how odd it is to be staying in the guest room as opposed to Chloe’s room.

Beca throws herself on the bed when she’s within launching distance. She sighs happily at the soft mattress against her sore back. When she opens her eyes, Chloe is still watching her, though she hovers awkwardly in the doorway.

“Chloe,” Beca says gently. “What’s going on?”

“I...why were you crying in the car earlier?” Chloe asks, as blunt as ever.

"I just had something in my eye," Beca says quickly. 

“Don’t lie to me.” 

That exchange is so familiar that Beca forgets for a moment. She softens. “I could never lie to you. I’m sorry.”

“Why were you crying?” Chloe asks, stepping slowly towards Beca. 

“...because you don’t remember me and it’s so clear that it hurts you that you can’t remember anything,” Beca responds, finally. “And I still don’t really know what to do with that information.”

“You blame me a little, don’t you?” Her voice cracks and it makes Beca shoot up off the bed. 

 _I blame myself,_  she thinks savagely.  _Somehow, I blame myself._ "No, I will never blame you," she says with conviction 

“I’m so confused,” Chloe whimpers. “And now you’re here and _you_  - you just  _know_  my family, maybe even better than I do because I’m missing the last six years of their life.”

Beca wants to...she doesn’t  _fucking know_ anymore. She wants to just drop to her knees and tell Chloe to just take whatever she wants from her own head. She wants to offer her own memories if it means that Chloe gets to live even just a modicum of the life she once had. Even if it means Beca has to give up some of her own.

This tug-of-war of happiness drains Beca’s life every day, so she can’t imagine what Chloe’s going through.

“This isn’t easy on anybody, baby,” Beca replies before she can stop herself. Neither of them notice or comment on the slip-up. She’s cupping Chloe’s cheeks, tenderly rubbing tears away. “We want to help you, okay?”

Briefly, Chloe wonders if this is helpful; if this proximity to Beca and resisting the temptation to simply kiss Beca right then there are helpful to the situation at all.

Beca’s eyes are wide, tearful, and filled with love and affection. 

They’re not particularly helpful.

She inhales shakily and steps out of Beca’s orbit. 

“Let’s just...work on this while you’re here, okay?” Chloe asks softly. “Just...figuring stuff out.”  _Us._  “I want to...try,” Chloe says, testing the word out on her tongue.

It’s more than Beca can remember being offered within the past few months. 

She’ll take whatever she can get.

 

* * *

 

 

They settle on a movie after dinner and unpacking. It’s that first night - that one where Beca really dives back into assessing how in love with Chloe she still is, in every way, shape, and form.

They watch a random thriller set in space recommended by Netflix.

‘Watch’ is loose. Beca tries to remember how to breathe, sitting in such close proximity to Chloe.

Chloe falls asleep about halfway through and ends up curling into Beca’s side, dead to the world by the time the halfway point of the movie comes around.

"Chloe, are you awake?" Beca slowly begins to untangle herself from Chloe. The movie credits play in the background.

When she finally succeeds, she huffs, brushing her hair out of her face. Chloe is sprawled on the couch, mouth cracked open carelessly. A very quiet snore escapes her lips.

Beca thinks this is the youngest Chloe has looked in recent months, without the constant worry or distress marring her beautiful features. She sighs, kneeling so she’s eye-level with Chloe’s head. “Chlo?” she tries again.

She considers waking Chloe up fully to bring her to her bedroom for a more comfortable sleep. Chloe grunts quietly in her sleep and twists, turning her head fully so that she’s face to face with Beca suddenly. Beca stumbles, nearly falling backwards but she manages to catch herself on the coffee table.

Slowly moving forward again, she reaches out to brush a strand of hair from Chloe’s cheek before letting her fingers glide down soft, warm skin.

In her mind, she sees the bruise that had marred Chloe’s cheek and the cuts along her forehead and jaw.

Now, Chloe sleeps peacefully in front of her, like it never happened. If Beca forces herself to simply imagine, she can pretend like nothing has changed.

Selfishly, she wonders if Chloe dreams of her.

“I love you,” she says, feeling shy as she talks directly to Chloe’s sleeping form. “I love you and everything you are. Even if you don’t remember all the ways you made my life better, I know that I will always love you.” She wills herself not to cry. “I promise I’ll always be here for you, no matter what.”

Beca pauses, taking a shaky breath. She gently combs through Chloe’s hair, thankful that Chloe appears to be as heavy a sleeper as she always was.

“Even if you can’t say it back – if you can’t mean it in the same way, I’ll never be able to love anyone else as much I love you."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, come visit me on [Tumblr](http://isthemusictoblame.tumblr.com/). I actually have a lot of one-shots stored there that don't make it here!
> 
> Thanks for reading. <3


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Beca and Chloe learn nothing and everything about each other.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Honestly this fic has no happiness. Maybe at the end of the entire fic, but not before I put them through stuff. That being said, thanks for sticking around. I haven't been able to reply to last chapter's comments yet, but hopefully I can get to them soon! You guys have been super supportive and I love you all so much.

The days that follow are hard.

Beca gets used to waking up and heading to the kitchen, only to see Chloe comfortably seated with a book and a cup of coffee.

It’s horribly domestic and only makes Beca want to turn back around and crawl back into bed. She thought it’d be easy or maybe even cathartic to see Chloe in an improved state.

However, the longer Beca stays, the more increasingly drawn and closed-off Chloe becomes. Beca tries to tell herself that Chloe is adapting. Adjusting. Beca sees how listless Chloe is around the house, clearly itching to step outside the safety net of this house.

Chloe said she wanted to  _try_ , but it doesn't mean that she can meet Beca halfway.

Beca never knew it’d be possible to be simultaneously happy and desperately sad.

She just wants to bring Chloe home with her.

 

* * *

 

 

Chloe wanders into the dining room one afternoon to see that Beca has set up a small mixing board and adorable little keyboard in front of her laptop. The oversized headphones on Beca’s head are almost comical, but Chloe thinks she looks cute, especially with the intense focus on her face.

When she catches sight of Chloe, she looks up and tugs her headphones down, around her neck. “Hey, you.”

Chloe notes that Beca still doesn’t quite meet her eyes. “Are you working?”

Beca has learned that Chloe asks questions abruptly and suddenly, cutting in and out of her own thought process. She supposes it’s just a new conversational habit that she has picked up along her road to recovery.

“A little bit here and there.” Beca shrugs. “I just work on other people’s stuff whenever they need me to. I can do my job anywhere. One of the perks, I guess.” She flashes a small, but genuine smile at Chloe.

“I guess...but in Portland?"

"Yeah," Beca says, drawing it out. “Issue with that?”

"No,” Chloe says quickly. “Would you stay here, then?"

"Why wouldn't I?"

Briefly, Chloe imagines a specific domesticity with Beca Mitchell - one that fulfills every dream she’s ever had. Her dreams war with her pragmatic side.

Still, she’s concerned for Beca’s health and career. “Isn’t your, uh,” she frowns. “Isn’t your studio in L.A.?"

Beca gestures at the small selection of equipment she had lugged from her home. “I can be mobile. Like I said, one of the perks.”

“I read that you...you’ve been MIA for a while,” Chloe says hesitantly.

Beca’s mind flashes to the gossip rag Chloe had been reading that morning as opposed to her usual novel or textbook.

“You could just ask me,” Beca murmurs. “I’m right here.” When Chloe doesn’t ask - when she _can’t_ \- Beca shakes her head. " _You're_ here,” she says in response to the unspoken question.

It’s the way Beca says that makes Chloe very nearly swoon: With so much faith and conviction, like she’s never been more sure of anything in her life.

Chloe feels her chest ache. "Would you move here?" The unspoken _for me_ rings loudly in the ensuing silence.

Beca thinks for a long time. Chloe fiddles with the cord of Beca’s headphones unconsciously, an action so familiar that Beca doesn’t realize Chloe’s doing it until she, well, realizes that Chloe is doing that.

“I just want to be with you,” Beca finally says, faintly as she fixates on Chloe’s fidgeting.

Chloe hears the truth in that. It makes her nauseous.

She watches as Beca tentatively turns back to her laptop. She itches to ask Beca what she’s working on, to have her explain some of it to her because it looks like something she’s passionate about.

She thinks about her promise to Beca that they’d figure things out between them. She itches to learn more about herself as well as this woman in front of her. She had _lived_ with Beca for a period after her accident, but the way Beca had walked on eggshells around her hadn’t left room for conversation.

Now, Beca sits in her family home, warm and inviting, but closed off at a certain point as if she’s still uncertain and unsure.

Chloe gets it; she’s uncertain too. She still gets flashes of headaches whenever she so much as breathes near Beca.

She turns and walks away. She’s too tired to try to remove the increasingly sturdy wedge between them even if her heart desperately wants to.

 

* * *

 

 

_“So, this is a date?” Beca asks, to confirm for the fifth time, at least. She can’t believe that drunkenly singing karaoke to Chloe had worked, let alone that she’s here now._

_Chloe laughs, continuing to set up the picnic she prepared. “Yes,” she emphasizes. She reaches out to squeeze Beca’s knee. “I promise you that this is a date, Beca Mitchell. This is a romantic date. I want to date you, kiss you, get in your pants, etcetera.”_

_Beca chokes on the water she had been sipping._

_Chloe’s eyes are soft, her smile relaxing into something kind and gentle. “This is a date,” she promises. “I’ve wanted this for so long.”_

_Beca goes for honesty and maybe a bit of stating the obvious. “Me too.”_

 

* * *

 

They go to a local coffee shop at Nick’s behest because he thinks it’ll do them some good to get out of the house.

He ruffles both their heads on their way out, telling them to have a nice date. Beca scowls the whole drive there.

“We can just talk,” Chloe says when they’re waiting for their orders. She’s feeling lighter for some reason, now that Beca’s been here for almost a week. She’s comfortable around Beca - not that Beca has ever made her supremely uncomfortable. Her headache is nonexistent today.

“What do you want to talk about? What do you want to know?” Beca asks, trying to balance her too full mug of steaming coffee. They grab a table near the back of the coffee shop, secluded and quiet. She glances at the coffee that Chloe is holding - a far cry from her preferred tea from what Beca remembers from living with Chloe for years.

It had unsettled her the first time Chloe had asked timidly for a coffee instead of a mug of tea. Beca tries not to think about the stash of Chloe’s favourite tea that sits untouched on their - her - kitchen counter.

“I…” Chloe’s not sure what she wants to know. She feels like Beca has told her enough about who she was as a person, back when she was attempting to live in Los Angeles like her life hadn’t been completely upended. She doesn’t know if she’s ready to hear more about that. It’d mean taking that step towards trying to actively get her life back.

“We don’t have to talk about any of...that,” Beca murmurs. She stares into her coffee. “I mean, we can just...hang out.”

“Hang out,” Chloe repeats, testing that out her tongue.

“Like friends do,” Beca says quickly. She averts her eyes when Chloe glances at her curiously. “Because we’re...friends.”

“But you want us to be more than that,” Chloe states.

“I mean…” Beca sips carefully at her coffee. “Yeah, of course I do. We were...we were going to get _married_ ,” she says quietly. “That’s…” she trails off. “I’m in love with you.”

Chloe’s eyes lock on to her, like she’s trying to crawl right into Beca’s soul. “I...how do you want me to respond to that?” Chloe asks timidly, belying the intensity in her eyes.

Beca is stricken. “I want you to respond to it however you want. There’s...I don’t want to force you into anything, okay?” She moves to plug her phone into the nearby outlet so she can turn away from Chloe for a moment.

When she turns back, there’s a man approaching their table.

“Hi,” he says, looming over their table. Beca’s eyes quickly flick over him, assessing him. Unmarried. Well-maintained scruff. Hazel eyes.

Her eyes slide back over to Chloe, whose confusion has faded into recognition.

 _Oh God_ , Beca thinks.

“Uh, Chloe, right?” he asks. “I helped you with your soup,” he continues, adopting a teasing tone.

“Your _what_?” Beca asks immediately.

“Hi,” Chloe says quickly. “Matt...Matthew right?” She glances at Beca who looks uncomfortably flushed. “This is my...Beca.”

“Your Beca,” he repeats, raising his eyebrows. Chloe shrugs with a nod. It’s as much the truth as she can muster. Beca is hers, to some extent, just like she’s Beca’s.

They’re working on it.

Beca looks marginally less stressed at that, though she doesn’t look _less_ unhappy.

“Well, hi Beca, nice to meet you.” His smile is friendly.

Beca chances a look in Chloe’s direction. She’s looking right back at her.

“Hi,” Beca says, shaking his hand slowly. She doesn’t bother standing up.

He glances between them, assessing more than anything. Beca tries to smile, though she’s sure it comes out as a grimace. She tries not to say too much because she doesn’t want Chloe to become too upset with her.

After that, Beca doesn’t think anything happens that’s worth remembering. All she remembers is how Chloe had smiled at him and _remembered_ him.

She tries not to let it affect her too much, but she thinks, as she cries to herself in the guest bathroom shower, that she’s losing Chloe too fast and too soon. The worst part is, she's sure she's losing Chloe to her own inner demons and she doesn't know how to help her.

 

* * *

 

 

They’re sitting out on Chloe’s back porch later that evening, watching the gentle sway of trees in the pink and orange sunset.

Chloe hums a little to herself. Beca squeezes her eyes shut.

“Why’d you give him your number?”

Chloe frowns, sitting up slowly from where she had been reclining and resting on her elbows. She twists to look up at Beca who sits a step above her, elbows resting on her knees and shoulders hunched uncomfortably. “Matthew?” she asks slowly.

Beca’s lips thin as they press together, but she nods.

“I…I don’t know,” Chloe says honestly. She chews her lip, facing her backyard again. “I just…it was a moment where it didn’t feel like there were any expectations or problems or just…anything. It was just a moment.” She puts her mug down. “You weren’t upset earlier. Are you upset now, Bec?”

Again, the nickname slides out easily. Effortlessly.

Beca sighs, though she’s not even sure herself if she’s sighing at the question or the nickname. “I’m not,” she murmurs. Chloe turns to raise her eyebrow at her. “Okay, fine. I’m a little jealous. Happy?”

“No,” Chloe murmurs. “That wasn’t what I wanted at all. I honestly forgot I did that,” Chloe continues. “That was like...that must have been almost two weeks ago now. Maybe three. He obviously never texted me.”

“Did you want him to?”

“I’m...I don’t know. Maybe,” she says quietly. Again, honestly.

“Well, what do you want now?”

Chloe doesn’t answer.

On one hand, Beca - with possibility and the entire world in the palm of her hands. On the other, the safety of just starting anew with a new identity.

She hates these conversations – the ones where she grapples with how she should respond. Should she think hard about how she might have responded if she were herself? If she were whole again? Or should she just respond with her direct feelings?

She knows that she likes hugging Beca. She likes sitting with Beca on the porch (though maybe not at this moment). She likes being _with_ Beca.

She likes that Beca believes in her, but she finds it hard to actually believe that Beca will _wait_ for her. It’s ridiculous to think Beca will put her life on hold. In fact, Chloe finds herself frustrated and aggravated that Beca’s love seems to have no bounds. Chloe doesn’t know what to do with all of it.

“Just…let’s drop it,” Beca says quietly when Chloe doesn’t respond. “I’m sorry for bringing it up. I…don’t dictate who you want to see, okay? I need to realize that, myself.” Beca looks at her briefly, though her expression wavers.

Instinctively, Chloe begins to protest - like she knows what it feels like to have Beca walk away from her (figuratively); Chloe begins to protest, then stops.

Beca's expression stops her in her tracks. There’s something dark, lying beneath the surface, struggling to stay afloat.

"You hate me," she blurts.

"I…don’t,” Beca says, immediately confused and alert. If anything, she hates herself.

"Uh, yeah, you do,” Chloe points out, feeling the recesses of her mind begin to throb and flood with unwanted pain. “You h-hate me for not loving you.” She wants to cry because she feels the worst of migraines coming on.

Beca looks incredulous, though it’s tinged with intense pain. “Seriously? God, Chlo-“ she rubs her face aggressively. “I don’t hate you. I could never hate you. How many ways do you want me to tell you that?”

“Then why are you so angry at me all the time?” Chloe shifts restlessly. “Why do you always cry when you see me?”

Beca sighs, standing up and she’s heading back towards the house. Chloe’s brain feels like it’s about to split in half, suddenly and words flow, almost as if she’s reciting from a script. “You’re just gonna leave, now,” Chloe accuses, standing up as well.

Beca pauses, halfway through the back door. She turns, eyes alight with something other than the sadness Chloe has grown accustomed to seeing. “What did you just say?”

Beca stares at Chloe then: the way her hair is up in a loose ponytail, tendrils coming to frame her face; the way her arms are tense and dropped to her sides, hands clenching at the air like she’s struggling to keep her cool-

It’s almost an exact replica of an image Beca has in her mind of looking back at Chloe following their shouting match at Fallen Leaves, amidst all their friends. “What did you say?” she repeats, when Chloe has yet to reply.

“I said, you’re just gonna leave, now,” Chloe repeats, though it’s with less conviction and more confusion than anything. She looks up at Beca, cautiously stepping closer. “Are you going to leave?” she asks, quieter. Gentler.

“Do you want me to leave?” Beca asks, holding on to hope that she doesn’t quite believe in.

Chloe shakes her head, even as it throbs. “No.”

 

* * *

 

_Beca thinks that fighting with Chloe is the worst thing in the world. She hates the way Chloe’s face transforms into something almost unnatural - like it’s absolutely against her nature to be angry and upset._

_And the fact is, Beca put that anger there._

_Even as she’s being swept up on Aubrey’s Godforsaken death trap, she only thinks that if she dies, she wants the last thing she sees to be Chloe’s eyes, but not alight with anger._

_She wants to see Chloe’s eyes looking at her as they always have: with unconditional love._

 

* * *

 

 

Beca thinks she has waited long enough.

“Come home with me,” Beca says after a long pause. “Back to Los Angeles.” It’s what she had been thinking for a while - nearly from the moment Chloe left. But it feels more pertinent to ask _now_ more than anything. “Please?”

Chloe is silent as she processes that.

“What?” Chloe asks weakly. She’s not sure she quite believes what Beca just asked her. “You want me to just...go home with you?”

“I came because I wanted to know if you’d be able to come home eventually,” Beca says softly. “Like, not now, obviously, if you’re not ready. But when you’re ready. We can stay here a little while longer.”

It makes Chloe bristle - the fact that Beca thinks it’s like a sure a thing that she’ll be stable enough to go back to Los Angeles with her. Like Beca’s own miniature tantrum earlier had no repercussions. “What if I don’t want to go back?” she asks slowly. “What if I don’t know what I want?”

Beca pauses. She has seen Chloe’s listlessness around the house. “But-“

“That’s not my home!” Chloe shouts. “This is my home!” It’s the only thing she can remember with certainty. Everything else is a dull grey intent on suffocating her.

Beca thinks Chloe should have just reached right into her chest and ripped her heart out. " _It is_ yours. It's _our home_ ,” Beca stresses, ignoring the hurt momentarily. “I’ll wait for you for as long as you need, I promise. You - you told me that this was temporary.”

Chloe bites her lip, growing more agitated by the second. She hates how fucking accommodating Beca is. "I can't do it. I can't be the Chloe you want me to be,” she explodes, finally letting her words come to the surface. “I can’t...I can’t go back to Los Angeles with you, knowing that I can’t even go back to my job because I don’t remember anything about it. I can’t live there. I can’t live in that - that house where I know nothing about our life together. You shouldn’t have come,” she tacks on quietly.

Beca wants to throw up. “That’s not...that’s not what I want, Chloe. I just want _you_ . Why is that so hard to understand? Why is it so hard to understand that you’re killing yourself here in this life you don’t even _want_ to live? We all want to help you! I want to help you!”

Chloe cries, “Why can’t you let me go? Why can’t you let me be?” It’s a variation on her asking Beca why she’s still in love with her. All those weeks ago. She had watched Beca cry over how in love with her she was. She still tries to hold Beca’s tearful words close to her heart. But now, weeks later, they don’t make sense to her.

Who could possibly love her in this state?

 _You can’t even love yourself_.

"Don’t you remember?" Beca asks, before she can stop herself.

_No, and maybe I don’t deserve to remember._

Chloe wants to scream or cry. Maybe both. Beca’s eyes are wide. “No, I’m sorry - I didn’t mean-”

“You can’t force me to go back to Los Angeles with you,” Chloe says immediately when Beca falls silent. Beca being here, living life however she chooses because she _can_...She feels anger and fear rise to the surface.

All her insecurities about trying to find her way back to what her old life was; all her trepidations about whether Beca could even love her again, in the same way she loved her before - they spread across her chest like a dark wildfire.

“I’m sorry,” Beca whimpers. “I know that. I shouldn’t have asked. I just wanted...” She’s so past the point of getting whiplash between Chloe’s frantic thought process. She thinks that her head has spun so far off her own shoulders that she’s just helplessly trying to keep herself alive at this point.

“You can’t even _look_ at me,” Chloe says, raising her voice again. She is suddenly aware that their fighting has drawn the attention of her family. They hover in her periphery, fading in and out. “Why can’t you look at me?”

_Look at me and see that I'm gone. I can't come back._

Beca looks up at her then, direct and straight into her eyes. “You don’t understand what I’m going through,” Beca whispers.

Glancing, she sees Chloe’s mother looking stricken and her father looking like he wants to intervene, but equally conflicted. She’s mortified that this is happening right then and there in front of Chloe’s parents. Her spectacular breakdown. First Aubrey, now Chloe’s parents.

“Help me understand!” Chloe looks like she’s on the brink of completely losing it, her eyes wide and filled to the brim with tears. Her face is flushed and red and _pinched_ as if she’s in physical pain.

_Just help me. It hurts._

"We’ve talked about this!” Beca exclaims. She looks like she could be angry, but the tears and downturned curve of her mouth belie that. She’s incredibly upset and it shows. “I love you. I love you so much.”

_Please don’t. You need to give up._

Chloe winces at the intrusive thoughts and Beca sees it. “See? _That_ . You fucking wince like it physically pains you when I tell you that I love you! You don’t remember _anything_ and it makes me want to _die_ every time. It hurts that I can’t tell you that I l-love you. I can’t kiss you, I can’t hug you without wondering if you’re going to push me away. I couldn’t even sleep in the same bed as you unless you were having a bad night.”

Beca pushes her hands through her hair, further sending the strands into a disarray. “Being _here_ is killing me because you’re trying so hard and I can tell. But at the same time, I know that you’re holding yourself back from something and it destroys me whenever I see you doubt yourself. If you could just see yourself the way I see you, you’d understand. You _told_ me - you told all of us - that you wanted to get better. We all want you to heal, okay?”

Chloe heaves a breath. Her entire body screams out for her to rush to Beca then, with affection and love pouring out of her from some unknown place inside her.

She _has_ healed, or rather - she has stopped healing. She’s not strong enough to find her way _anywhere_ , let alone back to where Beca - and the Bellas she met briefly - wants her to be. She has given up on the goals she set for herself. She’s going to stay fragmented forever.

Beca’s sobs pierce right through her, breaking every last chain Chloe has carefully installed in her chest. Instead, a chilling fear and terror rips through her because she knows she can’t love Beca in the way she needs - at least not while she’s broken. Not while they’re both broken.

"I want you to be happy, Beca,” she chokes out. “Why can’t you just choose to be happy and leave me?”

"I am hap-"

"You're not happy. There's no way in hell," Chloe interjects immediately, anger boiling over again. It’s as if Beca is deliberately insulting her current memory. “I told you that you deserve better than me! Don’t you remember? When I left!”

Talking to Beca is frustrating, like a series of metaphors, one after another. "Stop fucking lying to me! You were lying to me when you told me you didn’t want to force me into anything and you were lying to me when you said you wanted to just spend time getting to know me! You just want me to move back to Los Angeles!” She’s breathing heavily to the point where her chest physically hurts. “It has been _months_ and I haven't remembered anything. Doesn’t that mean anything to you?I said I wanted to try, but you want me to go back with you to Los Angeles like it’s nothing! Or do you just like to torture—" She cuts herself off, nausea and pressure creeping up into her chest. She wants to just _scream_ , but she can’t. She can’t because it all fucking hurts and she simultaneously wants to lock herself in her room or just hug Beca tightly and never let go.

She’s trembling with internalized rage before she realizes it, as well as the massive migraine that has taken place.

She shoves past Beca and her family, ignoring the way Beca is crying quietly to herself even though it sends pain rippling through her at the sight. “I’m going to bed,” she says as loudly as she dares, throwing it over her shoulder.

When she enters her room, her hands are shaking badly. She chalks it up to anger and stomps over to her desk, yanking out the album she had stored there. Staring at the front cover, she feels a nauseating swirl of emotions rise up in her.

She angrily throws the engagement album to the ground, trying to channel her anger into the action so that some of the pain can be alleviated from her head.

At once, a few things happen:

The album lands with a thud and falls open to a page with a single photo and passage of text.

She thinks she hears Beca’s voice from the hallway.

Chloe barely manages to glance at the album, only catching the glimpse of what looks like the fading glow of a beautiful orange and pink sunset engulfing her and Beca when she claps her hand to her head as the sudden pain manifests into nausea and -

She sees black even before she hits the ground.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, come visit me on [Tumblr](http://isthemusictoblame.tumblr.com/). I post this fic there as well. Thanks for reading!


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Healing is a long and tiresome process.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> godspeed. Your support is insane! I'm so, so, so appreciative.

Beca turns when she hears Chloe’s feet stomping up the stairs.

“Beca,” Helen murmurs, looking at her with sympathy.

She flushes, embarrassed mostly. “I...I’m so sorry,” she says, barely managing to get it out through increasingly heavy tears. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have come-”

It’s Nick who rushes to her, seemingly out of nowhere. He engulfs her in a hug, holds her when her sobs increase in intensity. “You should go to her,” he suggests.

She really shouldn’t.

She wants to leave.

She wants to fly back to Los Angeles and forget this happened. The thought that she wants to forget is enough to bring on a fresh onslaught of tears.

“I can’t go to her,” Beca whimpers, pushing at his shoulders. She tries to pull herself together. He has always been the brother she never had and had welcomed her immediately when she first started dating Chloe; the one who she had first told that she wanted to propose.

Now, the engagement ring hangs heavily around her neck like a reminder of what she’s never going to get back. “I’m sorry,” she repeats, swiping at her eyes. “I’m so fucking sorry.”

“At least tell her that,” he murmurs, looking down at the ground. “Before you go.”

Beca’s not even sure she can be alone with Chloe in a room again - not after that. She rubs her cheeks quickly before turning towards the stairs.

Upstairs, Chloe’s door slams open, then closed once more with a deafening bang.

Beca feels another hand on her shoulder. It’s Chloe’s father. His touch is comforting, even though she still expects him to completely ban her from the house. She understands if he still wants to.

“It’s okay,” he reassures. “There’s…” he trails off. “She loves you,” he says finally. His certainty is inspiring, even as Beca feels every last vestige of hope leave her body. “Go.”

So she does.

While ascending, Beca thinks of a million ways to apologize, all of them ending in some tearful explosion about how much she loves Chloe, but the knowledge that Chloe doesn’t want to even hear that only makes her heart plummet with each step.

Beca thinks her heart drops straight out of her chest when she hears the dull thud from Chloe’s room. She knocks once on Chloe’s door. “Chloe? Are you - are you okay?”

When there’s no response, she slowly turns the knob, heart thudding uncomfortably. “Chloe,” she states. “What-”

She stumbles against the door frame, only barely just catching herself in time.

She’s rushing forward immediately. “Oh my God, Chloe-“ she skids to a stop before dropping to her knees. “Chloe!”

Dread and fear course through her body, as she twists to call for help. She forgets immediately about everything that just happened. She needs to focus on Chloe’s well-being.

Beca tries to steady herself, but her entire body is trembling. She cups Chloe’s cheek, careful not to move her head too much and gently rubs at the uncharacteristically pale skin. She notes that Chloe is still breathing, at least, and a quick assessment indicates that Chloe hasn’t bumped her head too badly.

Regardless, Beca wouldn’t be able to stop the tears even if she tried. “Fuck,” she whimpers.

“Oh my God, what happened?” Nick asks, followed closely by his parents. Chloe’s mother lets out a quiet cry. “Do we call 9-1-1?”

“She’s breathing,” Beca says. She places a hand on Chloe’s chest, feeling a steady heartbeat, if not a little fast. “Chloe,” she calls. “Baby, wake up.”

 

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

 

 

_“Chlo, what the fuck?” Beca asks, laughing. She drops her bag by the front door and turns to the face the living room fully. “What is all this?” She gestures at the way the couch cushions have been rearranged on the floor to make a very cozy-looking pillow fort-giant mattress hybrid._

_Chloe smiles, and stands up before looping her arms around Beca’s neck to pull her in for a kiss. Beca responds in kind, hands automatically moving to Chloe’s lower back to hold her in place._

_“We’re going to stay in tonight and have a Netflix binge-a-thon,” Chloe mumbles, kissing the corner of Beca’s mouth. She grins a little at the Beca’s now-smudged lipstick, thumbing the soft pink away._

_“Why?” Beca asks, curious (and slightly afraid she missed some kind of anniversary). “What are we celebrating?” she asks quickly, eyes flicking to the unopened bottle of champagne by the displaced coffee table._

_“Well, I’m celebrating how in love with you I am and how excited I am to marry you.” Chloe’s smile hasn’t quite left her face since Beca walked in. “Consider this my unofficial proposal. I still need to get you a ring.”_

_“We’re already engaged,” Beca points out, allowing Chloe to drag her further into the room. “You don’t need to do that.”_

_Chloe rolls her eyes, throwing herself contentedly onto the pile of pillows. Beca follows, though less gracefully and very nearly beans Chloe in the face with her elbow. Chloe shoves her girlfriend - fiancée - off her._

_“Well, I already had something in mind for you. You just beat me to the punch. Besides, how fair is it that you got me this beautiful ring and you don’t get to wear something that reminds you of me everyday?” she teases, attempting to push Beca’s cardigan off her shoulders._

_“Yes, how else will I remember that I’m engaged to a pillow-fort-making genius?” She leans in, gently nudging Chloe back against the pillows. “I love you, Chloe,” she murmurs, cupping her fiancee’s cheek before kissing her slowly. She says Chloe’s name with reverence and all the love she can muster._

_Beca thinks this is one of her favourite memories._

* * *

 

 

Drowning.

Or dreaming.

Chloe’s not sure these days.

Everything feels muffled and heavy, like she’s trying to rise up against a grain of heavy air.

When Chloe resurfaces – the side of her head is throbbing in what she can only describe as “a non-migraine way” and her side is a little pained as well.

She becomes aware of another thing: the soft murmur of voices, though the voices themselves are anything but soft; rather, they sound anxious and flutter above her, just out of her reach.

Slowly – so slowly – she comes to, recognizing the sound of her parents whispering and-

Beca.

Chloe thinks she still hears Beca’s crying, but Beca had been downstairs, crying and- and her parents had been downstairs. _She_ had been downstairs.

_Where am I?_

“-been like two minutes. I’m going to call the hospital right now.”

“I think she’s coming to, Beca,” Nick’s voice says, somewhere above her.

“Chloe?”

The reverence with which Beca says her name reminds Chloe of how she had said it the first time she had woken up in the hospital. She remembers that, to say the least.

Or, for some reason, Chloe thinks that she has a memory - or a dream, she no longer knows - of Beca kissing her in the middle of their living room. Everything looks misshapen in her mind’s eye. Untouchable, even as she tries to clear the foggy glass.

It feels like a memory, nonetheless.

Chloe wants to share her memory with Beca, but the dull throbbing has already begun to spread to the rest of her body.

Gentle hands cup her cheeks. She immediately knows it’s Beca.

Faintly, a voice in her mind asks,  _how could you not know?_

“Help,” she croaks, when opening her eyes proves difficult.

“Chlo,” Beca murmurs, hands gently holding her shoulders. “Open your eyes.”

Like waking up from a dream, Chloe slowly does as Beca has instructed, following the sound of her voice like instinct. The fading remnants of anger slowly ebb away, but not before pulsing through her with a final push; the push manifests in physically pushing at Beca’s hands to get them away from her.

Chloe blinks, suddenly looking up at her room ceiling. She’s lying prone on the floor.

“What happened?” she murmurs, attempting to sit up.

Beca is watching her carefully, but keeps her hands to herself. “You…you fainted.” Beca looks nauseous, herself.

“Should we call the doctor?” Nick asks, looking at their parents.

“Chloe, honey, please just tell us what happened. This isn’t normal.”

“It’s nothing,” Chloe mutters. “I’m just tired.”

“Chloe,” her father says in a warning tone. “Don’t lie to us.”

“It’s these fucking headaches,” she snaps, finally pushing herself to her feet. She tries not to let it show on her face how unsteady she feels. “But I wouldn’t expect you to understand. You’re not the ones with a fucking hole in your brain.”

“You don’t have a hole in your brain,” Nick points out unhelpfully. “Not physically.”

“We’re taking you to Doctor Lin tomorrow morning.”

“I am an adult,” Chloe says. “Why can’t I make these decisions myself?” She recalls that the engagement album is still on the floor. Without glancing at it, she quickly picks it up and shoves it into her drawer. “I just want to sleep, okay?” The action itself sends another wave of nausea through her body. “I’m going to sleep.”

Beca’s eyes follow her movement, but she doesn’t say anything. Her hand comes up unconsciously to touch the metal chain around her neck.

Chloe falls asleep to the thudding of her own heartbeat and the memory of Beca’s tears.

Chloe sleeps restlessly.

 

* * *

 

 

Almost twenty-four hours later, Chloe is settling down for the evening when Beca knocks at her hospital door. She had spent nearly the entire day running tests and restating the events leading up to her blackout to Doctor Lin and another specialist.

They can’t quite pinpoint the cause, but Chloe figures there really isn’t any further explanation for heartbreaking memory loss.

She’s exhausted on every level: mentally, emotionally, and physically. Maybe even spiritually because she feels like she has no faith left to lean on.

Even if she had been so angry the previous day, a large part of that hadn’t necessarily been anger at Beca. Beca is trying. She can’t fault Beca for remembering when she can’t remember anything herself.

She gestures at Beca to enter. She’s so tired.

“I’m going to go home,” Beca says quietly once she’s in the room. She doesn’t make a move to stand closer to the hospital bed even though every cell in her body screams at her to do so. Chloe looks small and vulnerable in that bed. All it does is remind Beca that she has seen this exact scenario before.

Chloe barely manages to process that, but when she does, the stab of pain it sends through her only makes her squeeze her eyes shut. “Okay,” she responds. She’s not going to tell Beca to stay, not if she doesn’t want to.

She’s sick of hospitals and tests. She’s sick of prescriptions. There’s nothing wrong with headaches.

But she recognizes that her mind is in disarray.

She’s sure some of that is literal, but mostly it’s figurative.

She grasps at the fleeting sense that she’s missing something, but she doesn’t know what – though perhaps it’s obvious. She’s missing herself – crucial parts that she needs to make her whole again.

“You never told me how bad your headaches were,” Beca says after a moment’s hesitation. “I mean…I guess you wouldn’t have told me, but why wouldn’t you tell your parents or your brother?”

Chloe doesn’t know.

She doesn’t know _anything._

Well, she does know that she wants to leave this hospital.

“I thought I could handle them,” she says, finally. “Something that I didn’t have to share with every single fucking person. They’re just headaches.”

Beca tightens her grip on the strap of her bag, taking a tentative step closer. “Right, so you just let them build up until you blacked out.” She grimaces. “I’m sorry,” she apologizes, feeling worse.

“It’s okay,” Chloe says faintly. “Are you going to go now?” She doesn’t mean for it to come out harsh, but she can’t even muster up strength to say it any other way or sugarcoat it.

It’s akin to Chloe telling her to leave; telling her to go away.

Beca doesn’t know if Chloe knows how much that hurt; how badly Beca wishes she could just go and never look back.

Instead, all Beca feels is pain because she knows that she’s never going to fully turn away from Chloe. It’s just not part of who she is, at least, not in recent years. Not since she realized that Chloe would never turn away from her all those years ago.

“Yeah. I’m going to take a drive up to Seattle, then fly back to L.A.”

“To see your mom,” Chloe mumbles absently.

Beca freezes.

Her brain thrums with excitement she hasn’t felt in a while. “How did you know that?”

Chloe blinks, tired. “How did I know what?”

“T-that my...that my mother lives in Seattle.”

Chloe frowns, confused.  _Why wouldn’t I know that?_

“Chloe,” Beca whispers, jolting her out of her reverie.

There are about ten different emotions that cycle through Beca’s face - hope, love, excitement, and finally cautious optimism.

Chloe blinks, realization settling in. “You didn’t...tell me that?”

She tries to kick her brain into gear. She doesn’t really think anybody mentioned that to her recently either.

“Not that I can recall,” Beca responds, taking another step further into the room. It wouldn’t have come up in conversation. She mentioned her father had been a professor at Barden once in an attempt to jog Chloe’s memory, but Chloe hadn’t taken Comparative Literature.

She’s grateful that Chloe’s parents have given them some privacy because she’s not sure she can handle crying in front of them again. Suddenly, the previous day’s events don’t seem so important.

“Oh,” Chloe says, feeling more awake. She winces, sitting up in bed and trying to wrack her brain. It had slipped so suddenly into her mind, like remembering how to ride a bike. She sifts through every possible thought she has, trying to find more hidden gems hiding beneath the surface. When nothing comes up, she feels frustrated, though she holds on to that moment as a beacon of hope, finally seeing a light at the end of a very long, very painful tunnel.

It’s _there._

“Should I get a doctor?” Beca asks, already reaching for the call button.

“No,” Chloe says, reaching out to stop Beca. She places her hand on Beca’s, stopping her in her tracks. “Just...stay here for a moment, okay?”

Beca tries not to let hope swallow her whole. She’ll struggle to stay afloat longer, so long as she gets to spend a moment with Chloe.

When Beca draws up a chair and sits quietly by Chloe’s side, Chloe takes a moment to really look at Beca.

On the surface, Beca is a beautiful woman. Chloe likes the shade of Beca’s eyes, the curve of her nose, and - and Beca’s smile, even if Beca doesn’t look particularly happy at the moment.

Just beneath the surface, Chloe knows how much Beca loves her.

Her passion, her loyalty, her  _love_  -

Chloe recalls thinking that it would be so easy to fall in love with Beca Mitchell. She wonders, with curiosity more than anger, if she had felt this way when she met Beca for the first time.

They’ve come so far.

Yesterday’s fight had been so tiring and so draining.

Chloe wishes she had a better grasp on her own insecurities. Beca wishes the same for her own insecurities.

“I’m sorry,” Chloe says just as Beca thinks the silence might kill her. “For yesterday.”

“I should be the one apologizing,” Beca says immediately. She frowns. “Did I not apologize?” When Chloe just glances at her with an amused expression, she shakes her head. “I...am so sorry. I shouldn’t have asked you to come back with me - especially when you’re not ready. You deserve to do things however you want because it’s your life.” Beca looks like she could cry again. “I genuinely want the best for you, Chlo.”

“I know,” Chloe says. And she does. Beca has only ever proven that she has Chloe’s best interests in mind; it just happens that some of Chloe’s best interests involve Beca’s presence in her life.

When Beca says nothing else, Chloe takes the chance.

Chloe lets her hand glide slowly towards Beca’s hand, resting on the edge of her bed. "If we're meant to be together, things will work out, won’t they?" It’s what they should have talked about instead of screaming at each other. She slides her palm into Beca’s.

Well, Chloe had screamed. Beca had cried. She feels terrible about it, reflecting on it now.

Beca closes her eyes, trying to focus on the feeling of Chloe’s hand in hers. "That's what I'm afraid of. What if it doesn't?" Her life as of now is a refrain of  _what if? what if? what if?_

"If you and I are meant for each other, it doesn't mean we have to be together right now.”

It’s not necessarily negative, but, “what...are you saying?”

“Please be patient with me,” Chloe begs quietly.

Beca swallows. It’s a bitter pill to swallow.

She musters up the strength. “We have all the time in the world,” she states, echoing something Chloe once told her.

“I...I was upset yesterday when I thought about how I was engaged to you and I couldn’t even remember it.”

Beca nods at her to continue.

“I … I realized that I can’t even remember what my ring looked like before I gave it back to you. I just...it was driving me crazy when I was standing in my room. I don’t know,” she mutters. “I’ve been so scared to look at that album because I didn’t want to...I didn’t want to be disappointed if I saw how happy we were.”

“I hid the album we have in our home when you first came home from the hospital. You were getting upset at seeing photos of us together.”

That would explain why Chloe never saw it in L.A..

“I kind of wanted to look at it while you were here,” Chloe admits. “But I guess we never found the time.”

It’s the most she’s spoken to Beca about her memory loss and how it has affected their relationship.

Beca doesn’t say anything to that, but Chloe sees the hint of tears in her eyes. Instead, Beca carefully lifts the necklace from her neck, holding up the chain that holds Chloe’s engagement ring. It glints in the light.

“Oh,” Chloe says, like she’s seeing it for the first time. She supposes really seeing something and barely glancing at it are two different things. She had given it back to Beca hastily, too afraid of the implications.

The ring is beautiful, and Chloe can see an engraving on the band, but she can’t quite make it out. “It’s...there,” she states. 

“What did you think I did with it?” Beca asks, going for levity. “I paid a lot for this.” 

Chloe smiles, her tiredness finally reaching her eyes. The excitement from a potential returned memory ebbs away. “You’re such a nerd,” she mumbles in an affectionate tone.

Beca just allows that to wash over her. She ignores the memory that rises to the surface, content to just be in this specific present moment. 

Chloe is slowly falling asleep.

“I’m not going to text him, you know,” Chloe mumbles, as she’s on the verge of completely dozing off. Beca’s thumb stops stroking her hand.

“Okay,” Beca says, quieter than before.

Chloe wants to say something more, but her eyelids are heavy. Her body feels like it’s sinking back into the cot slowly and surely. 

Watching Chloe fall asleep, Beca thinks that she doesn’t need to say anything more. She takes off the chain holding Chloe’s engagement ring close to her chest and gently wraps it up in Chloe’s hand before closing her fist.

_Tell me you love me_ , she thinks. “Something to remember me by,” she says aloud. She’s not sure Chloe hears that.

She doesn’t say goodbye. This time she walks away, but only because she knows that she has something to come back to.

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

 

_"What's wrong, Beca?" Helen asks, squinting at the screen that separates Beca from Chloe’s parents. “Is it Chloe?”_

_“She’s moving home,” Beca says numbly. She hasn’t felt much since Chloe told her as much._

_“We know,” Helen says confusedly, glancing at Richard. Chloe’s father looks equally concerned and confused._

_“I…” Beca rubs at her face. “Is this a good idea?” she asks. “Her entire life is here,” she says, trying to keep the desperation out of her voice._

_“Beca, we didn’t...convince Chloe to move home, if that’s what you’re concerned about,” Helen says gently. “You know that we love you and we think you and Chloe are so well-suited for each other.”_

_There is nothing unkind about that, but Beca still feels like a child who has just been reprimanded._

_"I don't know how to..." she trails off, watching their faces on her laptop screen. “I’m sorry,” she mumbles, her confidence wavering._

_Their eyes remain on her, focused and concerned._

_“I want...I want her to stay with me,” she says quietly._

_And she does. She knows that Chloe’s tenacity and general appreciation for education and knowledge can help her get back on her feet, even if it’s only part-time work while she slowly works through the missing blocks of knowledge._

_And still, silence rings around them. Beca can hear a crackle through her headphones._

_Beca notes that their gazes are rife with sympathy and love, which made her feel marginally better; they were looking out for her as much as they were looking for Chloe. They had to understand how much Beca wanted to make this work, how much Beca works towards a future for both and Chloe, because life without Chloe is-_

_"Believe me when I say that we did suggest Chloe would be better off staying with you in your home. You’re right; her things are all there. Her job. Her friends. It’s the best thing for her memories and it’s supposedly the most direct path to her life and definitely her life with you."_

_Beca doesn’t say anything, waiting for the last blow. She runs through a million scenarios in her mind._

_"I'm sorry, Beca,” Helen says, taking over from her husband. “We think that forcing Chloe to live with you wouldn’t be the best idea either."_

_Beca understands their instinct to take Chloe’s well-being above all else, but she selfishly wants to be the one to take care of Chloe and make sure that everything works out. She almost wants to scream and remind them that they had given her their blessing when she asked them if she could propose to their daughter; they were supposed to be married._

_“She’ll call you, you know that, right? She’ll reach out to you when she’s ready.” Richard’s smile is kind and loving. “You can visit us, okay? I’m sure Chloe will like that. You are always welcome; you’re family.”_

_Beca wants to believe. She figures she doesn’t have much choice. “Okay,” she says quietly._

_She ends the call. She never stood a chance._

 

* * *

 

One week later, Chloe hasn’t remembered anything new. One week after Beca has left, Chloe finds solace in the engagement ring that once terrified her.

“Why can’t I just remember?” She resists the urge to hit herself on the head. The urge that continues to grow with each passing day. She wants to kickstart her fucking useless brain into remembering or something.

_Anything._

She’s on a phone call with Aubrey, of all people. Aubrey, who is steadfast in her support of both Beca and Chloe in this nightmarish situation. Aubrey is also somebody on whom she can also use the phrase "remember when..." and not want to completely break down into frustrated tears.

“Why couldn’t Beca just forget?” she whispers, the words leaving her lips and immediately making her sick. She touches the chain of her necklace, taking solace in its weight. She absentmindedly traces the engraving on the ring.

_To look at you is to remember love._

“I don’t know,” Aubrey replies thickly, sounding like she’s on the verge of tears herself. Chloe immediately feels bad for putting her best friend through this, but Aubrey is the only person she trusts who knows both her and Beca; Aubrey is the only person she trusts at this point to be rational. “I don’t know,” Aubrey repeats. “But that’s…” She trails off.

“I didn’t mean that,” Chloe mutters, already feeling bad.

“You will make it through this. Both of you.” Aubrey sighs heavily. “Whether you manage to do it together or not is less important. You will make it.”

“But when,” Chloe pushes.

“You know I can’t answer that for you.”

Much later, Chloe stares blankly at the wall, wondering which parts of herself she can live with and which ones she can live without.

She just wants to live, again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, hit me up on [Tumblr](http://isthemusictoblame.tumblr.com/).
> 
> Thanks for reading.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Do we take for granted the little things that help bring memories to life?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Um, holy wow, feedback! Thank you so much leaving all the love you can muster in your comments and messages here and on Tumblr. 
> 
> I love you; enjoy!

Feeling marginally alive again comes in minuscule bursts.

Aubrey visits in the middle of November, almost a whole month after Beca left.

Chloe has slowly been tackling her linguistics and language books, finding interest in all the work she had done while she had still been a student at UCLA. Her parents kiss her on her forehead and tell her how proud they are of her. She wonders distantly if they had performed that exact action the first time around.

Chloe has also spent time staring forlornly at the engagement ring that now hangs around her neck, wondering if she’ll ever get those memories back. She envies herself - her old self, maybe - of how she got to _live_ a life with Beca at all.

She relives their argument and brief conversation at the hospital - the last interactions they had before Beca had slipped quietly out of Chloe’s life.

She dreams of how Beca's face had closed off, the way Beca had just _walked away_ like nothing - how familiar - how familiarly painful it had been, to see the back of Beca’s head. Each iteration of Chloe demanding how Beca could just walk away ends before Chloe can see how they came back together.

She knows she’s being irrational at best, but she feels fucking _crazy_. She sinks slowly into a medley of unbearable guilt and loneliness.

It was better for the both of them that they take time apart.

"Chloe?” It’s her mother. “Uh, Aubrey’s here. Do I just...send her in here?”

Aubrey’s voice sounds suddenly. “No need, I’m here.” Chloe twists in her seat, closing her book. She figures she could face her best friend instead of her book.

Aubrey smiles at her. "Hey, Chloe, are you hungry?”  

It’s so simple and just a _regular_ interaction that Chloe bursts into tears at the simplicity of it all.

 

* * *

 

Aubrey somehow coaxes her out of bed with the promise of a movie and frozen yogurt down the street.

"First, let’s get some things out of the way. I know you miss, Beca. She misses you, too, by the way.” Aubrey states firmly. “Stop beating yourself up over it. Now, let’s get frozen yogurt.”

Chloe sits in front of Aubrey, staring at the giant pile of yogurt Aubrey has managed to squeeze into her cup.

“Nice sweater by the way,” Aubrey says, plucking at the fabric. She points at the Barden logo emblazoned on the left breast. “Haven’t seen that in a while.”

Chloe shrugs. “It’s a little chilly today and I just wanted to wear something comfortable.”

Aubrey’s eyes drift to her arm, though it’s so fleeting that Chloe thinks she imagines it.

Still, Aubrey is _here_. Chloe is grateful.

Chloe swallows. “She just left,” she whispers. “Beca just left.”

“Didn’t you want her to leave?”

"I…”

Chloe supposes she did. She wants Beca to do something with her life other than waiting on Chloe. Chloe’s still waiting on herself, like waiting for a train she’s not sure she’s missed or maybe it just won’t ever come. “Why does it hurt, then?" Beyond the emotional aspect, Chloe rubs at her throat. It’s slightly swollen from her sobbing earlier. She figures the frozen yogurt will help, but she doesn’t feel too hungry.

Aubrey digs into her yogurt. "Because you've misplaced your love, Chloe" she says matter-of-factly like this is just common knowledge. Like love can be misplaced and found so easily.

"I don't remember loving her,” Chloe says, wondering how many times she needs to tell people this. She can’t articulate that more clearly.

“Chloe,” Aubrey says patiently, adopting the tone she uses for children or misbehaving acapella teammates. "Ever thought that it might be because it’s somewhere deep down that ridiculously large heart of yours?" Aubrey points at her with the spoon with emphasis, accidentally flinging some frozen yogurt on Chloe’s cheek. “Oh, my bad.”

Chloe smiles before shaking her head and wiping it away herself. 

Aubrey is so much...lighter than she remembers. She wants to know what happened in the years in-between.

But- "But _why_ ? How? I don't _know_ if I love Beca," she mutters. She’s mad at her brain. “I mean, I totally could. Maybe.”

Aubrey tries not to get her own hopes up at that, maintaining a neutral expression. She had promised Beca she’d check in on Chloe during this visit.

She had been Chloe’s designated maid of honour - it only makes sense that her duties as maid of honour _and_ best friend carry forward even if Chloe can’t remember that.

“Trust me when I say that you _loved_ her. You literally yelled at me over _a capella_ because you were so ridiculously head over heels for her.” Chloe’s watery laugh makes her laugh a little as well. It does sound a little incredible. “No, for serious, you loved her before and maybe - maybe the feelings - all of them muddled up - are still there. You just can't remember it. Yet." She doesn’t want to overwhelm Chloe, especially not in a frozen yogurt store, so she stops there, holding back from overstepping.

"How _is_ Beca?" Chloe asks softly. She fiddles with the cardigan she had put on, liking its slight fuzziness and how it engulfs her in what feels like a warm hug. She could use one about now. Beca had left rather abruptly after that night in the hospital and since then, she hasn’t really reached out to Chloe (though Chloe hasn’t really reached out either). She’s not sure what she expects Aubrey to say.

Aubrey pauses, like she’s not sure how much information she should divulge.

"Beca is...Beca, you know?"  Aubrey scoots around the table, metal chair scraping loudly on the floor, to put her arm around Chloe’s shoulder. Chloe sighs, leaning on her shoulder. “Why don’t you just...email her or something?”

_Beca is...Beca._

Chloe thinks that means nothing and everything to her all at once. Even hearing Aubrey tell her these things in person as opposed to the phone does little to make her less uneasy.

“You two will come back together when you’re both ready.”

Chloe wishes there were a certainty associated with that as well.

 _Beca is Beca._  She tests that out in her mind, repeating it until it finally fades.

Chloe is Chloe, but only just barely.

 

* * *

 

> _I heard a song today,_ Chloe begins, in her email. _It reminded me of you. But more importantly, I think-_

 

Beca doesn’t know if she can read this fully. “What song?” she asks to her empty room.

 

> _But more importantly, I think that being reminded of you doesn’t hurt as much as it used to. I went out with Aubrey today to get my mind off things, but I also just wanted you to know that it’s getting easier every day to not completely hate myself._
> 
> _I hope that the same goes for you._
> 
> _-Chloe_
> 
> _P.S. Aubrey told me you worked with one of the guys from One Direction recently - you never told me they broke up!_

 

Beca rolls her eyes, but she feels lighter than she has in months.

 

* * *

 

Chloe is attempting to do laundry when she realizes that the wash-instructions tag has been cut off from the cardigan she had taken. She frowns, realizing that she doesn’t necessarily cut her own tags. It figures that Beca would cut her tags. Beca had always been peculiar about -

Her train of thought halts abruptly and she nearly stumbles from the sensation of familiarity and comfort that washes over her; it fights against the tide of emotions that suddenly struggle for footing in her body.

This is _Beca’s_ sweater.

She suddenly has a very vivid memory - or maybe even a flashback - of Beca wearing this specific cardigan on a chilly fall evening at Barden. It had been a gift from Beca’s father - stitched with her own initials on the left sleeve.

Chloe fumbles, working her way back out of the memory. She shoves aside the mountain of thoughts she has, knowing that she won’t find another memory in there; she holds on to whatever threads she can grab on to. Physically, she grapples for the sleeve, ignoring the gentle throb in her forehead in favour of grasping at the fabric.

When she sees it, she laughs disbelievingly, hugging it to her chest.

 _B.M.,_ as clear as day on the left sleeve.

 

* * *

  

> _Chloe:_
> 
>  
> 
> _What song? As you know, I work in the industry, so this will be a marker of whether your taste has any merit._
> 
> _I...am totally kidding. That was my attempt at a joke. A bad one. I’m sorry, I have like zero sense of humour._
> 
> _If I’m being honest, a lot of songs remind me of you, though maybe that has something to do with being in the Bellas and hearing you sing every day._
> 
> _I know you don’t remember the Bellas or how you helped bring us to multiple championships, but just know that I think you are an incredible person inside and out. I promise that I’m saying this from a completely objective standpoint._
> 
>  
> 
> _xx_
> 
> _B.M._

 

* * *

 

Chloe’s nightmares begin taking a turn for the worse - she sees them in vivid colour, with so much realism that she wakes up often in a cold sweat.

She dreams of painful car accidents, ones where she wakes up, struggling to breathe.

She dreams of operations.

She dreams of Beca, hurt, and helpless.

Those are the ones that she’s not sure how she can recover from.

When she awakens from a nightmare - one that leaves her with a splitting headache - she’s gasping for breath and scrabbling for the prescribed Valium on her bedside table. She knocks it clean off, whimpering when she can’t stop the images of Beca being _hurt_ from assaulting her brain. 

She manages to latch onto her phone and dials automatically. It doesn’t even occur to her to call anybody else.

Beca answers after a few rings, breathing heavily like she had just run to her phone. “Chloe - Chloe, it’s like three a.m.! Are you okay? What’s happening? Chloe, are you crying?”

Chloe heaves a breath, immediately feeling Beca’s voice leave her in a more calm state. She feels frantic, knowing that Beca isn’t physically accessible. Her ring is lying somewhere on her dresser. She can barely bring herself to move and just stares up at her ceiling.

“I - I just need you,” she whispers.

“You need me to what?”

“No,” Chloe clarifies, her headache nearly splitting her skull. “I just need you, Beca - I don’t - I don’t know how-” She rubs her face, trying to calm down. Instead, her hand comes away with the beginnings of tears from her eyes. “Beca,” she whimpers.

“I’m here,” Beca responds.

Everything is piling up on top of her.

Beca doesn’t know how to calm Chloe down – not when they’re miles apart, connected only by their phones. She wishes that she could just _see_ Chloe, but she knows how much it’ll eat away at her if she sees Chloe crying.

Though, hearing it, it’s not much better.

“How…how do you want me to help you?” she asks, cradling her phone against her ear like it’s a precious gift. She’s not sure Chloe is even aware of what is happening, given that it’s three a.m. in the morning.

Across the line, Chloe inhales shakily, resting her head against her wall. “I’m…I don’t know. I just…want you to…”

_I want you to kiss me._

The thought floats absentmindedly into Chloe’s mind, like it’s the most natural thing in the world. Every conversation she has had with Beca, her parents, Aubrey, her brother - it all has led her to this. Beca won’t kiss her, not while she’s stumbling through the dark.

It only makes her cry harder. What she says instead is, “I want you to help me love you again.” It is completely selfish, but the slow, gradual fragments of memories she has been piecing together only leads her back to Beca Mitchell and everything she is; she’s afraid of opening that box and what it all means, but she knows that Beca can help her – that Beca _will_ help her.

Beca’s entire chest hurts. It spreads from somewhere very deep inside her.

How long she has waited to hear this - how long she has _wanted_ this from Chloe since Chloe woke up not remembering her. 

Still- 

"I have some thoughts,” Beca says softly.

The lack of communication and physical distance over the past month has given her perspective, albeit very painful perspective. 

“You're not in love with me, Chlo,” she says with a finality that ripples through the air between them somehow.

She tries not to dwell on how Chloe doesn’t correct her.

So, she powers through: “You just…you miss me. That’s not being in love with me. We were… _everything_ for years. The Bellas, moving to Los Angeles...Almost seven entire years of just being with each other, even just as friends. And now, we’re trying to figure _that_ out.”

“I _know_ ,” Chloe whimpers, just wishing that it all meant she could figure out how to be herself again. “I know. I’m so sorry, I’m so –”

Beca can’t stop her own tears at that because Chloe sounds more broken than she ever has. “Chloe,” she whispers. “Chloe, listen to me.” She waits as Chloe’s breath slows slightly. “To you, this…this space I’m giving you probably hurts because some part of you… _knows_ that we've always had each other’s backs it's not because you _love me_ . We were co-captains, we were best friends - you _made_ me like acapella,” Beca says with an almost disbelieving laugh, attempting to inject humour into this.

 _...But I love you. I’m so in love with you. That’s how I know there’s a difference_ , is what Beca doesn’t say.

What she does say, listening to Chloe’s shallow breaths, is, “I want you to fall in love with me, you know. Of course I do. I left because I needed space too – you flip between looking at me like I’m a total stranger or somebody you’ve known all your life and...and neither of those means that you’re in love with me. I can accept that as long as…” Beca inhales shakily. “As long as it means that I get to be in your life even just one day more.”

Oddly, it is the most romantic thing Chloe can recall hearing _ever_ , but also, it is so innately _Beca_ that it makes Chloe crumple again.

“How do I stop hurting you?” she asks softly.

Beca closes her eyes and tries to imagine what Chloe’s face looks like then. She has stopped looking at the photos of them together scattered around the house.

In her mind, she cups Chloe’s cheek.

She cradles the phone, even more delicately than before. “Stop hurting yourself,” Beca murmurs.

If only it were that easy. 

 

* * *

 

It is finally Christmas Eve.

Chloe steals away from dinner with her family. All she can think about is a song she heard on the radio - one that feels incomplete for whatever reason. Music seems to be some kind trigger for her to want to talk to the only other person she knows that feels so deeply about music.

She dials Beca’s number. 

Beca answers and in the background, Chloe can hear laughter and the sound of what appears to be a party. 

“Chloe,” Beca says, immediately alert and attentive. “Chloe, what’s wrong?”

“I think...I’d like to come to L.A. in the new year,” Chloe says quietly. “These past few weeks have been better.” She doesn’t mention the nightmare episode from very recently.

Beca inhales sharply. “Does that…” She clears her throat. “If it’s what you want, then I’d like that very much.”

“It - it doesn’t mean anything yet, okay? You were...you’re right. I trust you, Bec,” Chloe says, sounding a little teary, though not nearly as distressed as earlier. “I want to see what it’s like again. Maybe figure things out. I - I can get my own place.”

“You don’t have to do that,” Beca says immediately. “The guest room is...I mean, if you really…” she trails off, unable to continue.

“Maybe,” Chloe murmurs. She feels hopeful for once.

Beca will take it. She’ll take it all - whatever Chloe has to offer; there is nothing that Beca wouldn’t do for a chance at Chloe’s love again.

“Beca?” Chloe asks quickly, just as she’s about to hang up.

Beca pauses. “Yeah?”

“Merry Christmas.”

 

* * *

 

_Beca tells herself that she’s not going to hold on to this ring any longer. She doesn’t really know what she’s waiting for - just seeing Chloe smile at her makes her want to get down on one knee to propose._

_She doesn’t know if Chloe wants glamour or something insanely romantic, but she also doesn’t doubt that Chloe will say yes._

_It’s Christmas day and Beca is bustling around the kitchen making a steaming mug of tea and bowl of soup for Chloe, who has been miserably sick over the past few days._

_Still, it’s not like they have anywhere to be other than beside each other._

_“Chlo,” Beca calls quietly, entering their bedroom. The lump underneath the sheets shifts and Chloe’s ridiculous bed head pops out from under the covers._

_She peers at Beca tiredly. “Who?” she asks, voice heavy with sleep and congestion._

_“Chlo,” Beca repeats, a smile on her lips. “How are you feeling?” she asks, sinking into bed. Chloe curls into her side, burying her face and snotty nose into Beca’s pajama shorts. “Not better, I assume.” She feels more than hears Chloe sniffle against her clothes. “Dude,” she says, laughing. “Gross.”_

_“Soup?” Chloe asks, pushing herself away and attempting to sit up._

_“Right here,” Beca says, carefully moving the tray over. She settles it over both their laps._

_Beca spends their second Christmas morning together as a couple spoon-feeding Chloe soup from a can as best as she can._

_When Beca returns from depositing everything back in the kitchen, she makes the decision right then and there. Chloe is clicking through tv channels with a morose expression on her face, hugging Beca’s pillow to her chest._

_Rifling through her bedside table, underneath folders and pads of paper, she closes her fist around the small blue box, wondering where the sudden tremble that runs through her body comes from._

_Beca crawls back into bed, drawing Chloe back into her side._

_“My gift for you is in the living room,” Chloe mumbles, tilting her head up to kiss Beca’s jaw. “I can go get it.”_

_Beca shakes her head, holding tight to Chloe’s shoulder. “No, it’s okay. Stay.”_

_“Okay,” Chloe whispers, sinking further into Beca’s side. It’s so natural. “Merry Christmas,” she says softly, voice still thick from sleep. “What a pair we make, huh?”_

_Beca can’t help but agree with that._

 

* * *

  

“You too,” Beca murmurs, only barely managing to keep her tears at bay.

She’s ready to start again.

 

* * *

 

 

> _Beca, honestly, the song I can’t get out of my head is Just The Way You Are. I heard it and I looked it up - it came out in like 2010. That’s insane._
> 
> _This was also the song that reminded me of you like all those weeks ago. I can’t explain why._
> 
> _There’s something about the song though, because even though it feels like any other generic pop song, there’s something incomplete about it, like it’s missing something crucial._
> 
> _Did we sing this song for the Bellas or something? Maybe it just needs an acapella twist._
> 
> _-Chloe_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, come visit me on [Tumblr](http://isthemusictoblame.tumblr.com/).


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fractured, but not completely broken.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for the feedback. God, you guys are incredible. 
> 
> My recommended songs for this chapter are: Homesick - Dua Lipa; Need You Still - RVRB.
> 
>  
> 
> **Check out this fic's soundtrack[here](https://open.spotify.com/user/shimmy.theresa/playlist/4ippY2rIUAH6f4cERHdsVl?si=8Wewdp5tTL6EUSnCCTJe7A).**
> 
>  
> 
> I actually considered this a lighter chapter than previous ones. Then again, I have been called many things like "angst ho" and "demon" so maybe don't take my word for it.

Chloe spends the next two weeks preparing herself to go back to Los Angeles. She’s going to take part-time courses - though auditing might be a better word - until she feels comfortable enough to head back to work. Her supervisor - academic and professional - had pulled a couple strings.

Chloe supposes she has a rather blessed life. She counts her blessings every night, though the blessings don’t necessarily mean more memories.

And Beca - memories of Beca are her least common memories.

Beca had suggested she listen to “Just A Dream” in her rather abrupt and short reply to Chloe’s email.

Chloe’s not sure what that has to do with the song _she_ had brought up, but she listens to it anyway, wondering if Beca’s completely lost her mind.

The thought briefly makes her laugh to herself humourlessly because Beca’s not the one with memory loss.

The song _is_ good though. She recalls that it came out around the same time as “Just The Way You Are”. It’s like a puzzle Beca is trying to get her to solve, but all she sees are two songs that shouldn’t go together...but they do.

She just doesn’t know how or why - just that they must.

 

* * *

 

_It’s friendship and more, Beca thinks._

_Co-captaining the Bellas with Chloe is something akin to a dream and nightmare. She and Chloe have very different styles of teaching and very different styles of music._

_Beca is also a little prickly when it comes to her musical taste._

_Despite it all, it’s all part of what draws them together and ends up ensuring that they bring home the championship for the second year in a row._

_Chloe and her just work well together and she doesn’t allow herself to think beyond that._

_(She does her best, really.)_

_Despite it all, Beca still has a Jesse and that’s that._

 

* * *

 

Beca picks her up from the airport.

It’s busy as any day in LAX. Chloe grimaces as another traveler bumps into her shoulder apologetically. There’s something messy and incomprehensible about large cities that she’s not sure she understands entirely.

But-

Beca is there, in front of her. She’s holding a little sign that says Chloe’s name with a bright yellow and orange sun drawn in the corner. It kind of looks like it was made by a kid, but it only endears Chloe to Beca more.

“Hello,” Beca says, when Chloe strolls up to her. “Like the sign?”

There is something so charming about Beca when she’s being a complete nerd, Chloe thinks. She briefly wonders how easily she had fallen for Beca’s quiet charm the first time around.

(She only wonders because she thinks she’s falling pretty quickly this time around.

Not that it’s a competition.)

“Hi,” Chloe says, though it’s quiet because it’s all she can muster. The pressure changes in the cabin, though minimal, had not helped her migraine. Standing in front of Beca now, the migraine only intensifies, even as the rest of her is assaulted by the sheer emotion she feels welling up inside of her whenever she so much breathes near Beca.

Beca looks like she’s conflicted. She lowers the sign and holds out a hand tentatively like she’s either about to shake Chloe’s hand or offer to help her with her bag.

Chloe decides that she’s going to make this decision for both of them. She grabs Beca’s arm and pulls her in for a crushing hug, feeling some weight evaporate off her chest instantly.

Chloe presses her face as best as she can against Beca’s shoulder, wrapping her arms around Beca’s body. She tries not to inhale too greedily; tries not to focus too much on the possessive press of Beca’s hands against her back; tries to resist the urge to tilt her face and just press the barest kiss against Beca’s neck.

Beca wonders what the protocol is here - what she is meant to do or say when she’s finally holding Chloe in her arms again after two months of nothing.

"I missed you," Chloe whispers.

Then again, Chloe dives in like she always has. Beca feels herself melt a little more into the hug, uncaring that people are jostling around them or that her sign has floated to the ground.

"I missed you, too," Beca says, reaching a hand up to tangle gently into Chloe’s hair, holding her tighter. More securely.

When Chloe pulls back, she smiles at Beca’s dazed expression. Beca’s hands slide from her body, slowly, as if she wants the moment to linger.

She clears her throat. “Need some help with that?” Beca asks.

“Um, sure. Just...let me…” she kneels, rifling through her bag for her migraine prescription.

Beca immediately looks concerned and she puts a hand on Chloe’s arm. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, just...migraine.”  

Beca nods, but keeps her eyes lasered on Chloe the whole walk to the car that’s waiting for them. The fact that Beca has a driver is not lost on her.

Still, she’s not in a mood to question it. She gets into the back, immediately sighing when the cool and plush leather soothes her aching back. Beca follows and immediately turns to face her.

"Are you sure you're okay?" Beca asks quietly.

Chloe nods as best as she can, reclining against the car seat. Beca’s hand is comfortably on her knee and her thumb is slowly stroking at Chloe’s skin. It’s the most relaxed Chloe has felt in ages. "I'm okay," she responds as truthfully as she can. 

Beca isn’t particularly convinced and she opens her mouth to ask once more, but Chloe grabs her hand and intertwines their fingers.

Briefly, before she dozes off for nap in the heavy Los Angeles traffic, Chloe recalls that Beca tends to get carsick when she’s riding in the backseat. She’s not even completely sure where the thought comes from or if it’s even true, but it makes her squeeze Beca’s hand just once before she slips away.

Beca squeezes back, she thinks. 

 

* * *

 

Chloe agrees to stay in Beca’s - their - guest bedroom until her place is completely finalized. She’s renting a nice-enough place in Van Nuys, not too far from their previously shared condo in Sherman Oaks.

Stepping into their home again is like learning how to breathe again after being underground. Except, it’s more like Chloe sucks in gasps of air, trying to figure out how to deal with every emotion running through her body.

Beca is experiencing more or less the same - though she has learned how to live with this emptiness a little bit sooner. She wheels Chloe’s gigantic luggage off into the corner before coming to steady Chloe on her feet. “Woah. Are you alright?”

“Yeah,” Chloe says, before shaking her head. “I mean...I guess I was just overwhelmed.”

Beca tries not to look too eager. “Was it a memory?”

Chloe hates that she has to tell her the truth. “No, not really. Just...a feeling.” She gazes around, trying to ground herself once more. She settles, slightly.

Her eyes land on a framed photo of them together, kissing in front of the castle at Disneyland.

_God._

They were so fucking happy.

Beca’s eyes catch her line of sight and she quickly takes the photo. “I’m sorry - I was going to put that away.”

The fact that Beca apologizes for having a photo of them out, it just about breaks Chloe’s heart.

“You don’t have to do that,” she says quickly. “I don’t mind.”

Beca slowly lowers the photo, though she kind of holds it close to her chest still. “I...I don’t want you to be uncomfortable, Chlo. Especially if you still can’t remember.” Beca looks down, almost reverently at the photo before looking back up at Chloe with an equal if not more passionate gaze. “I want this to work between us, okay?” 

It has something Beca has considered and come to terms with: the idea that Chloe may never fully recover her memories.

But the fact remains, Chloe is here now, standing in front of Beca with a willingness and openness and desire to _live_. It’s all Beca needs to know that somehow they’re going to make it.

“It’s weird,” Chloe says, trying to play off the rising self-doubt, as Beca carefully puts the photo back down. “I- I feel like I need to be worthy of you again first.”

She’s trying to be more honest - more clear with her thoughts. It is meant to help her with her mental organization and communication, but all she sees is the heartbreak that flashes across Beca’s face.

“You are worthy of me,” Beca says with broken conviction. Her voice catches as her stream of consciousness just flows out of her. She has always been a little bit low on her self-restraint around Chloe Beale. “No matter where you are in your life, you always have been. Where would I be without you? You’re worth a thousand of me. You’re a much better person than I am.”

“Hey,” Chloe cuts in, immediately hating that kind of self-deprecation, especially when she knows how untrue it is.

“No, yeah, okay, I get it, you know? We both need time. I’ve been telling myself that over and over since...since Portland.” Beca seems to be speaking quicker and quicker. Chloe doesn’t know how to stop her. “You need more time. Take all the time you need. I'll…wait for you.”

_You’re the love of my life._

The thought flies through Beca’s mind and she grasps at it, trying to contain it. Beca’s not sure how she let herself lose control so fast. “You’re worth all the time in the world,”  she says, ending on a whimper.

“Beca,” Chloe begins, feeling stricken.

“But,” Beca continues, looking frantically hopeful and desperately sad all at once. “You’re _here_ and we can start there, okay?” She doesn’t bother wiping her tears, instead turning towards the kitchen hastily. “I’m gonna grab dinner from the fridge and we can-”

“Please,” Chloe whispers, taking two steps to engulf Beca in her arms. Beca trembles even as Chloe rests her forehead against the back of Beca’s head.

They must stand there for seconds, but it feels like an entire lifetime. Chloe closes her eyes and just breathes, taking in the feeling of being with Beca again - this Beca who she is building from old memories and new ones, all wrapped up in one.

“Please,” she repeats, when Beca turns slowly in her arms. Her hands come up to cup Chloe’s neck and for brief second, Chloe thinks, maybe-

Beca just buries her face against Chloe’s shoulder, hugging her close.

She doesn’t quite finish the sentiment because Beca’s tears touch her neck and she does her best to hold herself together.

_Please don’t cry._

_Please don’t give up on me._

 

* * *

 

_The first night they spend in their new place, Chloe cheerfully pops open an expensive bottle of wine Beca had been saving for a future trip up to see Chloe’s parents or her mother._

_Ignoring her protests, Chloe pours them both healthy glasses and corralls Beca out onto the balcony. Beca kind of just wants to lie down after moving all day._

_“Why,” Beca says, deadpan._

_“Because,” Chloe replies, gently pressing her body against Beca’s back, holding them both steady against the balcony. She rests her chin on Beca’s shoulder. “The sunset is beautiful.”_

_“You’re beautiful,” Beca retorts, with attitude._

_Chloe clucks in her ear before gently kissing at one of her piercings. It makes her shiver, even though California is so ridiculously warm. “Stole my line.”_

_“Tell me, then.”_

_“You already know,” Chloe whispers, before tilting her head as best as she can._

_Beca meets her halfway._

 

* * *

 

It has to be the wine. Chloe’s not sure where the apologies or conversation pour out from.

They’re leaning against the railing of the tiny balcony, watching the sky’s changing colours as best as they can. Chloe wonders how many evenings were spent watching sunsets in this very spot.

“I’m sorry,” Chloe repeats, tasting guilt on her tongue. Beca still looks a little emotional. She quickly takes a sip of wine.

“Please stop apologizing,” Beca says, swirling the last bit of wine around in her glass. “It was a good thing I left, okay?” She sighs, pushing her sunglasses up to her head. Her eyes still feel a little swollen and teary from earlier, but she wants to look at Chloe without the obstruction of a lens. She misses looking at Chloe.

“I know,” Chloe mumbles. “I just…” She’s not sure.

“I was afraid,” Beca says softly. “I thought it was my fault, you know.”

“Why?”

“I thought I was the one who...I thought I hurt you,” Beca explains. The memory of seeing Chloe on the floor is still burned into her mind. “I thought I was trying to force you to remember things and it was just...hurting you.”

“You thought you hurt me?” Chloe asks. The thought never really occurred to her.

“When you...when we fought, you looked like I had just ruined your life. I was terrified that you were going to hate me.”

“I could never hate you.” It comes out on instinct, like it is her body’s natural reaction to hearing that from Beca.

A hint of a smile graces Beca’s face. “You were so upset. I realized it was wrong of me to go to Portland, especially when we both weren’t ready.”

Chloe remains quiet at that. She supposes Beca has a point.

“I was pretty selfish, wasn’t I?” Beca laughs a little. “God, when will I stop fucking crying? I’m sorry.”

“If I don’t get to apologize to you, you don’t get to apologize to me. Not anymore.”

“Yeah, okay. I can do that. Let’s do that.” Beca laughs, a little weakly, but mostly in relief. She feels lighter, somehow. Chloe has always known what to say in her moments of distress. “Let’s stop apologizing. Want to do that?”

“Sure,” Chloe says, clinking her glass against Beca’s, meeting her halfway as she always has.

They drink in silence, the remains of their dinner forgotten.

Still, Chloe burns with curiosity when she watches Beca’s profile. The gentle reds and pinks of the sunset highlight Beca’s features beautifully.

“What’s something you miss?” Chloe asks tentatively. She’s not sure how much of herself she can give to Beca - not yet, at least.

“What do you mean?” Beca asks, even though she kind of gets it.

“I...What do you miss about me?”

 _Then, or now,_ Beca wants to ask. She feels guilt and pain rise up in her at the thought. She could go on and on - maybe starting with how much she absolutely misses just comfortably waking up next to Chloe and kissing her. Or sliding her hand up her stomach, simply to hold her.

Beca laughs at how unexpectedly she feels the pain rise up inside her. “How long do you have?" she asks before she can stop herself. Chloe doesn't quite flinch, but the pained expression on her face is enough to make Beca double back. "I'm sor- I don’t know," she says quickly. "I guess...your singing, I guess. You used to...sing to me. Sing with me. A lot,” she emphasizes, trying to laugh it off. "And that was long after we left school and the Bellas."

Chloe tries not to think about how she hasn’t really sung since the accident, feeling self-conscious more than anything. She wants to return to the topic of the Bellas a bit later, but for now...

She fiddles with her phone, wondering if Beca _wants_ her to sing still, or whether that had been some sacred tradition that she used to do with her when Chloe was in love with her.

“Do you want me to sing for you?” Chloe asks quietly. “I - I can.”

It’s the hesitance that really throws Beca - especially when once upon a time, all Chloe did was sing. She literally burst into Beca’s shower to sing with her.

It makes Beca feel greedy for some semblance of happiness again, even if it comes in these bits and scraps she’s picking up along the way. “Do you…” she hesitates. “Do you know Titanium?” It has to be about seven years old by now.

Chloe brightens and nods, suddenly feeling a thrum of excitement suddenly inside her chest. “I’ve been listening to music from those years in between. Sia, right?”

“And David Guetta,” Beca corrects automatically. If she closes her eyes she can pretend this is rehash of her freshman year. “Have you been living under a rock?” she murmurs quietly, not really expecting Chloe to hear it or understand that reference.

Chloe laughs at that, having heard it evidently. She nudges Beca's ankle with her foot gently. “No,” she responds. “Just a little forgetful.” 

Beca slides her sunglasses back on her face and leans back while Chloe clears her throat. She doesn’t want Chloe to see her cry.

However, when Chloe opens her mouth to sing, Beca is transfixed.  

Chloe’s eyes are locked on her, like there is absolutely nowhere else she’d rather be. Her voice is soft, a little tremulous, and maybe a little hesitant, but she is clear and sounds as beautiful as ever.

 

_I'm bulletproof nothing to lose_

_Fire away, fire away_

_Ricochet, you take your aim_

_Fire away, fire away_

 

Beca can’t resist - she never was able to resist an impromptu duet with Chloe Beale and she’s not about to stop now, not when they both need this more than ever.

The surprise in Chloe’s eyes when she harmonizes is fleeting because her gaze grows warm and soft, sending butterflies scattering somewhere in Beca’s stomach. She flushes under the warm California heat, wondering how it came to this - how things could have worked out this way.

The chorus comes to a close and Chloe pauses, like she’s not sure whether she should continue. She shifts, facing Beca more fully. “Was that okay?” she asks, sounding more nervous than Beca can recall hearing, ever.

Her eyes are filled with light and a beauty that Beca can’t quite recall seeing in recent months - at least, not to this extent. It makes her suck in a breath. “You sounded beautiful,”she murmurs, resisting the urge to draw Chloe into her arms and kiss her, right there on the balcony, in plain sight of her nosy neighbours.

Chloe is quiet, before she coughs. “I guess I’m a little rusty. I haven't sang since...” She doesn't need to rehash that particular memory.

Beca scoffs, though it loses some of its bite when she sniffles a little after. “You were _perfect_ .” She ignores the waver in her voice. “You _are_ perfect.”

It’s true. It is the inspiration Beca has been missing - the little spark of love and magic that she needs to get her through the day at work. Chloe has always been that for her and, not that Beca expected anything different, but she’s immensely pleased that she still is.

Her voice, soft and directed straight at Beca - it had been so intimate and familiar. Akin to having Chloe in her arms on a quiet Saturday morning. Akin to Chloe kissing her on the cheek after a long day at work.

“What?” she asks quietly, when she notices that Chloe is continuing to stare at her.

“I...nothing. It’s just, we sound good together. Just the two of us.”

She half expects Chloe to implore her to audition for the Bellas.

Beca wonders if the pain ever really numbs - if it ever really goes away.

It really is quite the experience, falling in love with the same person twice.

She reaches for Chloe’s hand. “We do, don’t we?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want, come yell at me on [Tumblr](http://isthemusictoblame.tumblr.com/), too.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> To go back where it all began. Chloe-centric.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, I LOVE YOU ALL. I spent most of my day screaming at how amazing everybody was and I only stopped to deliver a major presentation for class.
> 
> My recommended songs for this chapter are: Jealous - Labrinth; Waiting Game - Banks
> 
>  
> 
> **Check out this fic's soundtrack[here](https://open.spotify.com/user/shimmy.theresa/playlist/4ippY2rIUAH6f4cERHdsVl?si=8Wewdp5tTL6EUSnCCTJe7A).**

Chloe moves into her own place a week and a half later.

Leading up to it, Chloe notices that Beca tries to find reasons to touch her, whether it’s a gentle brush of her hand across Chloe’s shoulder or a nudge to Chloe’s leg with her own while sitting on the couch together.

It’s...nice. 

It’s more than nice. It makes Chloe struggle to restrain her blush every time Beca chooses to smile at her - smiles that she notes are happening with increasing frequency.

In fact, things are just nice. They’re pleasant. Chloe enjoys the Phonetic Theory class she’s auditing and how she’s slowly easing her way into more administrative work at the clinic. The knowledge and routine feel more comfortable to her than ever before.

She finds it somewhat ironic that she previously worked with people who needed speech therapy, usually after undergoing a serious memory condition or physical trauma to their head after an accident. 

Meeting all the incredible people she works with and how many people’s lives they’re trying to improve, Chloe appreciates all the ways she had been lucky in her own life. Worthiness is hard to build, but completely satisfying in the end.

Still, sitting at work, Chloe finds her mind wandering, wondering what it’d be like to do more than occasionally hold Beca’s hand. When this happens, she lazily touches at the ring she wears around her neck, as if to ensure it’s still there.

(Her mind wanders at night too, but she’s less thrilled by that because the vividness of her dreams make her wonder exactly what separates fact from fiction; what she remembers and what she dreams.)

On this particular day, she’s in the process of organizing patient files when she swipes her finger against the edge of the paper, cleanly giving herself a tiny papercut. She winces, bringing her finger up to her face to inspect it. It’s a shallow cut, but a cut nonetheless.

She sighs, wandering over to the drawer with band-aids. As she’s putting on her band-aid, she thinks about telling Beca. She wonders if Beca will tell her how clumsy she is, like she usually does, recalling how- 

She pauses in her ministrations.

It amazes her how easily memories slip in and out of her mind these days - as if her routine has only relaxed her mind enough for her to allow memories back in.

In her mind’s eye, she sees Beca teasingly holding a band-aid just out of her reach. They’re sitting at a tiny kitchen table. There are more details, she’s sure, but they’re foggy and scattered.

It’s the feeling that comes with it, though. It’s so refreshingly familiar and natural.

She doesn’t fumble this time, however. She settles in and just lets the very random memory of Beca laughing and wrapping a band-aid around her finger wash over her. She doesn’t even remember when it happened or how long ago, just that it did and she can be confident in that aspect.

When the memory fades, Chloe thinks that she doesn’t need more. She doesn’t fight to hold on. She lets it slip into the recesses of her mind, slowly, like a dream. She just treasures the knowledge that she remembers something so simple and for now, that’s enough.

She goes back to work. 

It’s a perfect day.

 

* * *

 

_“What if we don’t work out?” Beca asks lightly, playing with the strands of Chloe’s hair. She’s watching the way the light kind of drifts in through the curtains and makes interesting patterns on the skin of Chloe’s back._

_Chloe blinks one eye open to peer at her. She groans when she realizes Beca had spoken aloud. “What did you just say?”_

_“I...I don’t know. Don’t mind me.”_

_Chloe smiles and shifts so she can draw Beca into her arms. Beca tries not to think about all the wonderful, wonderful skin that’s pressed against her, instead focusing on the way Chloe’s embrace is comforting and safe._

_“You’re such a nerd,” Chloe tells her, pressing a kiss against her forehead._

_“I…What if we break up? You’ll find somebody new. You’ll start over again. You’ll start a family. Like...maybe we’ll be friends at best.”_

_Chloe’s brow furrows. “Are you...predicting my future?” It’s not quite the conversation about family and children she expected to be having with Beca._

_“No, I don’t know. Whatever,” Beca mutters. She’s just a bit more tired than usual._

_Chloe smiles, enjoying Beca’s particular brand of, well, Beca this morning. “It won’t be like that.”_

_“What won’t?” Beca asks before she can help herself._

_“All of it. I’m here to stay,” Chloe murmurs._

_She tilts Beca’s head as best as she can and kisses her, like it’s the first day of the rest of their lives. It’s a kiss that feels different somehow, like she’s kissing her for the first time again. “Try and get rid of me, I dare you. It’ll be hard, I promise.”_

_Beca believes her._

 

* * *

 

It’s around the end of January where Chloe realizes that her life needs to be kicked back into gear in more ways than one. 

She comes to terms with the fact that Beca is famous. Like, on her way to becoming a legitimate major celebrity. Chloe totally understands - Beca is ridiculously talented. Obviously, that would be a recognizable fact.

There’s a part of her that realizes that she doesn’t fit in this equation - at least not now. There’s a whole part of Beca’s life that she isn’t accustomed to; there’s a part of Beca’s life that she doesn’t remember anymore. 

And yet, the whole world seems to know something about her on some level, or it feels that way at least.

“You shouldn’t read those, you know,” Beca mumbles, tugging the magazine out of her grasp. She puts it back on the shelf.

“Why not?” Chloe asks before she can help herself. “Everybody else gets to read it and have some kind of insight to your life. Sometimes it’s insight into our life,” she tacks on before she can help herself.

It’s not bitter, not quite, but it still doesn’t leave a good taste in her mouth. She swallows the lump that forms in her throat. She’s not sure where it comes from. Maybe the residual longing for some glimpse into what they had together. Beca is tight-lipped about it on most days, but she will tell Chloe if she asks.

Beca turns, facing Chloe with curiosity and hesitation. It’s a common expression for her these days because the way Chloe looks at her is tinged all kinds of intimacy and familiarity that she doesn’t know how to proceed. As of now, Chloe’s words sound like jealousy, but Beca’s not too sure where the jealousy comes from necessarily.

She doesn’t say anything, taking in the way Chloe’s face looks a little pinched like she’s working through a migraine.

They don’t talk about it.

 

* * *

 

Chloe finds herself alone on a Tuesday night.

She’s reclining on her couch, watching the Grammy Awards and keeping an eye out for Beca on the red carpet. It still throws her for a loop when she thinks about Beca’s fame and her general tenacity, talent, and work ethic.

All of this knowledge that she has about Beca only builds and builds until it threatens to overwhelm her and she finds herself blushing at the direction her thoughts take her.

She is attracted to Beca in more ways than one.

Like, ridiculously attracted to her.

She finds herself thinking about Beca at random points during the day, such as wondering if Beca would want to hear about her day or whether Beca would enjoy the soup in front of her.

It’s kind of inconvenient, really.

Still, the attraction all comes to a head when she catches sight of Beca on her screen. She can’t fight the smile that graces her face and immediately wills herself to remember this moment forever.

But-

She squints, wondering who exactly the woman with Beca is. She can’t quite recall that Beca worked particularly closely with anybody on her last album - an album which Chloe had listened to with a kind of hungry passion and dedication.

They take photos together - a lot of photos.

Chloe frowns, gripping her phone a little tighter because, well, she had thought Beca would go alone. Still, this could very much not be a date, but Chloe wishes that this unrecognizable woman would remove her hand from Beca’s back like it belongs there - not when Chloe recalls claiming that any award show dates would belong to her. It’s less of a memory and more of something innate inside Chloe that she knows to be true above all else.

She wants to be there. She wants to-

Oh.  _Oh_. 

The sudden recognition of the familiar and all-encompassing emotion - the recognition of this emotion that passes through her with lightning-hot intensity.

It’s jealousy.

It’s pure, simple jealousy. Likely the same kind of jealousy Beca had just a few short months ago in Portland. 

Chloe sags, her body releasing tension almost immediately at the thought. 

“I’m jealous,” she mutters, before silently gazing at the screen. 

Finally, she laughs.

She laughs and laughs and laughs and she kind of wants to cry because everything just feels a little bit more like she’s coming into her own body again; like she’s finally returning home after a long and tiresome journey to parts unknown.

All she wants to do is tell Beca, or maybe just scream into her pillow for a few minutes. She’s jealous and possessive and she’s finally letting all these wild, romantic feelings run alongside those less attractive emotions. Her chest physically aches at the sensation, but she doesn’t care. She just lets it overwhelm her and take her walls down with painstaking effort.

It’s not a memory, no. But it’s the simple fact that she wants Beca and she wants to date her. She wants to fall in love with Beca and learn everything about her. She wants Beca to be hers and she wants to start anew.

It feels normal.

"I like you," Chloe says aloud to her empty apartment. She tests it on her tongue, hoping, waiting, wondering.

It is normal.

That’s all it is. 

(It is everything all at once.)

 

* * *

 

Thankfully, the push Chloe needs comes in the form of Beca herself.

“I have an idea,” Beca tells her one day when they’re doing grocery shopping. It’s something they somehow still manage to do together even though they live apart. It’s both an illusion and source of comfort for Beca because she can imagine that nothing has changed, really.

Chloe’s eyes flick across a magazine that has Beca’s face splashed across it casually. “What is it?” she asks distractedly.

Beca stops pushing the cart and puts her hand on Chloe’s arm. “Chlo,” she implores.

“I...I’m sorry. Mind just wandered off.” She smiles weakly. “What was your idea?” 

“I was thinking about what you said about the Bellas the other day. I...might be able to pull some strings with my dad and Aubrey and we can go back to Atlanta for a weekend. I’d...I’d invite the other Bellas too and whoever can come, so it doesn’t have to just be the two of us.”

Chloe bites her lip, glancing away for a moment. She wouldn’t necessarily mind being along with Beca, but at the same time, she gets that this gesture is more monumental than Beca’s letting it on to be.

“It was a silly idea,” Beca says quickly when Chloe has yet to respond.

“No,” Chloe says immediately when Beca moves to push the cart again. “No, Beca. It’s...perfect. I want to do it. 

The way Beca’s eyes absolutely shine at her tell her she made the right decision. 

It sounds like a relaxing weekend and maybe just what they need.

 

* * *

 

Instinctively, Chloe thinks she should have known. It ends up being a little chaotic.

The moment they land, Chloe barely has time to deal with her headache when they’re being wrangled into a hug by Aubrey. Chloe can see more women behind her.

She counts four women - four ex-Bellas, she assumes - other than herself and Beca. 

“How did you arrange this?” Chloe asks, eyes sparkling as she takes in Beca’s sheepish expression. 

“She practically twisted our arms to get us to come,” a woman who Chloe remembers as Stacie says. “Hi Chloe,” she says, adopting a gentler tone.

“Hi,” Chloe says lightly. “I think I remember you from when you came to visit me in the hospital with Aubrey. Stacie, right?”

“Yeah.” She grins and shakes her hand. “We made out once.”

Chloe stares at her for a moment, contemplating. “Sounds about right,” she says, accepting it. Stacie is very attractive and Chloe recalls being able to get very drunk in her university years.

Beca makes a disgruntled sound. “I wish that wasn’t true,” she mutters. “I wish I didn’t witness it.” 

“Hi, Chloe,” another dark-haired woman says, raising her arms instinctively like she’s about to hug Chloe. She seems to catch herself and she settles on raising both hands in an awkward wave.

“I’m sorry,” Chloe apologizes when she doesn’t immediately recall her name. “Was...Emma?” she asks tentatively, feeling bad immediately. There’s something about this woman that makes her feel both protective and loving all at once. She seems younger.

“Oh right, you don’t remember me,” Emily stammers. “I guess that makes sense. I’m Emily, so you were close!” She looks like she’s grappling with a million different emotions at once. Chloe figures that she hadn’t been around when Chloe first woke up; she hadn’t been with the Bellas that managed to make it out to Los Angeles to help support Beca and Chloe.

“Wow,” Amy says, nudging Emily with a pointed look. “She must have had a head injury recently,” she offers sagely.

“Amy!” Aubrey yells, beating Beca to the punch.

“What? I thought Beca wanted us to be ourselves to make her feel better?”

“Not like that!” Beca yells back before Amy puts her in a headlock.

Despite it all, it makes Chloe laugh. She laughs and feels like she hasn’t felt in months: happy, free, and loved.

This is already making her feel like part of the family she never knew.

 

* * *

 

“I can’t believe they still have food trucks here,” Chloe exclaims, rushing forward so she can get a better look. “Wow, these trucks are really popular, huh.”

Beca nods, remembering many a drunken after-party and lazily sharing food with Chloe on brainstorming evenings. The food trucks are just off-campus, in the vicinity of all the off-campus housing that draws more upper year students than freshmen.

Supremely unhealthy, but very convenient.

“I’m kinda hungry,” Chloe admits.

Aubrey nudges her. “We could go to a restaurant.”

Chloe seems giddy, suddenly. She pulls at the strap of Beca’s bag. “Maybe we could get something from the trucks. Pretend we’re all in school again.”

Beca can practically feel sympathetic gazes boring into her back. She’s thankful - grateful - for Amy then, because Amy slugs Chloe in the shoulder. “That’s a great idea. I could do with a little poisoning.” 

Chloe trails after her. “I never got food poisoning.”

Amy grins. “That you remember.”

Stacie and Amy have made it their personal mission to play a twisted version of Two Truths and One Lie with Chloe’s memory. She finds it kind of fun, but she’s suspicious because they’ve told her three lies multiple times now.

She turns to Beca. “Bec,” she asks, voice verging on a whine. “Did I ever get food poisoning from the food trucks?”

“Don’t tell her!” Stacie yells.

“Yeah, you did,” Beca says immediately, sending a glare in Stacie’s direction. She receives a whipped sound in return. 

“Oh, remember that time Chloe jumped in the pool with her clothes on?” Emily asks, laughing. “That was one of my first interactions with you.”

Chloe’s eyes soften as she looks at Emily. Emily who stands so unsurely in front of her, yet, with hope in her eyes.

Chloe wonders how many lives she’s upended and how many more people she has forgotten along the way.

These are her friends-

No, they’re her  _family_ and fate was cruel enough to remove them from her memory. 

Beca sees the brief turmoil in Chloe’s eyes and quickly moves to her side. “Chlo, food?” she asks, pointing to where everybody is moving towards the food trucks.

Chloe smiles, appreciating Beca’s deflection. “Yeah,” she responds. She tucks her hand into Beca’s arm, tugging her along. “Want to split?”

“Sure,” Beca responds, thinking of many a late night spent hunched over a take-out container with Chloe and sharing food like it was their last meal. “Whatever you want.”

 

* * *

 

They’re standing in a quad, surrounded by brick buildings.

The air is still; the night is quiet. They somehow managed to steal away from the rest of the Bellas as they opted to go back to Fallen Leaves to retire for the evening. 

Beca and Chloe are still on campus. Chloe feels full from more than just the food and snacks they consumed. She feels simultaneously aggravated by the mild headache coming on, but also full from the sheer excitement and love she had felt from her friends.

"Do you recognize it?" Beca asks, startling her out of her reverie. Chloe had inadvertently walked them towards the old dormitories. There’s a pull here that Chloe can’t quite place.

Chloe’s brow furrows. “Yeah, the freshman dorms. I stayed at Douglass in my first year, I’m pretty sure.”

“I stayed at Baker,” Beca murmurs quietly. It’s the building just to their right.

“It’s familiar,” Chloe says slowly. She doesn’t want to see whatever hopeful gaze Beca has directed at her even though she has been slowly getting used to it; getting used to that sensation of being watched and wanted, both driven by nothing more than love. Still, she thinks that she wants to see Beca happier. More full of life. The last couple of weeks have been close, but not quite. “...familiar like it's in the back of my mind."

Beca smiles, though it doesn’t quite reach her eyes. There’s a shine in her dark blue eyes, but it’s something sad and heartbreaking.

"Is this place important to you? To us?" Chloe asks, amending it quickly at the end.

"Yeah. Yeah, I’d say so." 

Chloe waits, but Beca turns her gaze back towards the ground.

"You're not going to tell me, are you?" Chloe asks quietly in realization.

"I can’t get my hopes up. I’ve accepted it. When I kind of saw which way you were leading us, I just followed.” Beca shrugs helplessly. “Maybe I thought you’d remember something, but...I’ve grown to,” her voice cracks. “...accept that you really might not remember anything again except when it actually physically hurts you to do so,” she murmurs thickly, recalling when Chloe had terrified her by passing out. “But it's fine," she says as steadily as she can. "We can make new memories.”

"I want to remember," she says, feeling like a broken record. It’s like her friends and family and Beca doubt her desire to remember everything. “I want to remember so we can just be us. New memories are great, but...this is part of who we were, Beca,” she whispers, with reverence. She wants to hold on to that even if Beca is willing to let it all go.

Oh, how she would love to love Beca like she once did. The two warring states of her mind rise to the surface again. 

This tentative relationship they’ve been building, it finally feels like it’s moving somewhere. "I...I feel like this means something to us,” Chloe says, looking back towards the smattering of first-year residence halls.

Beca watches her. All she feels is love burning through her, stopping somewhere where her hand itches to hold Chloe’s. Just once more. There’s something about the atmosphere that feels different between them. 

"Did we meet here?" Chloe asks softly. Beca’s silence tells her enough. “I thought I tried to recruit you for the Bellas with Bree? At the activities fair?” 

Beca laughs at that memory. She draws her jacket further around her shoulders as best as she can. It’s a chilly evening in Atlanta. “There was that. This was something a little different.” 

Chloe looks mildly irritated, but steps closer to Beca, reaching out to hold her hand again. Beca exhales loudly at the action, but doesn’t make a move to pull away. “Are you going to tell me?” she tries again. 

Beca looks up at her freshman dorm, letting the echoes of an impromptu duet fade in her memory. 

“Maybe another time.”

Chloe wonders faintly if she’ll ever be able to be exactly what Beca needs. 

Beca wonders the same - whether this will finally begin to work out. She feels hopeful when Chloe doesn’t push.

At that moment, Chloe thinks that she could imagine kissing Beca here - right on the campus grounds of where they first met. It feels poetic somehow, like it’s bringing to life a new chapter in their life together. They could use a blank page. Beca detaches their hands and begins walking down the pathway. 

“Beca,” she calls quietly.

Beca turns to face her, somehow looking younger than she has in a while. “Chloe,” she calls back, raising an eyebrow. 

“Beca, I have headaches everyday. My side still hurts, like a phantom pain from time to time.” She smiles ruefully at Beca. “I’m not the same person anymore. I’m not the same person you fell in love with and I think that’s really important that you know that.” 

"I know that,” Beca replies, brow furrowing. “You’re not the same person who fell in love with me. But the fact remains…” she pauses, taking a breath. “You almost died, Chloe. I almost fucking lost you forever." Beca looks like she might break at any moment. "You almost died," she repeats, quieter. Then, her eyes are alight with surprising intensity. "Guess what? I’m not going anywhere unless you fucking ask me to.” She inhales shakily and doesn’t make a move to wipe her eyes, instead focusing on holding Chloe’s hands firmly. “I just want to be with you, Chlo. That’s all I’ve ever wanted."

“To be with me,” Chloe whispers, just as Beca finishes with “to be with you.” 

It’s the most passionately Beca has spoken to her in months.

Silence hangs in the air between them.

Chloe walks toward her then, hands reaching out to hold Beca’s wrists. “Can I kiss you?” she asks, blunt and straightforward. “Would you mind, terribly?”

The look of surprise on Beca’s face immediately is replaced by one of hope and love. It shines and radiates out at Chloe with force. “Yes,” Beca says on a rasp. She clears her throat, still attempting to catch her breath. “Yes, please.”

“Like…” Chloe has to be sure. “Yes, you  _would_  mind?” 

"No!” Beca amends quickly. “No, I wouldn’t mind. Yes, please kiss me...if you’re sure, obviously.”

Beca looks like she might cry. All Chloe wants to do is kiss her. It’s all she has been thinking about for months. She has only just allowed herself to sink into that desire. She wants to kiss Beca and that’s just a fact of who she is.

Yes, she’s sure she wants to kiss Beca Mitchell. The most peculiar sense of deja vu rises in her, like she has had this desire before many times. 

So, Chloe does. 

Beca is glad that she had held off from kissing Chloe sooner. It wouldn’t have been right. But this - this firm brush of Chloe’s lips against hers...it is absolutely right. It is deliberate and slow, the way Chloe’s hand comes up to cup her neck, fingers sure and gentle as they weave into her hair. 

Beca shivers, allowing Chloe to tilt her head, angling their lips more surely together.

This kiss is knowing and gentle and loving and perfect 

Chloe likes the way Beca’s fingers flex into her back, like she’s resisting the urge to deepen the kiss too far, just on the verge of losing control.

When they finally separate, Chloe takes her time opening her eyes because she’s almost afraid of seeing whatever expression of hope and love is pouring out of Beca. There’s a fragility to the moment that makes Chloe exhale quietly, resting her forehead against Beca’s. Beca’s hands move to hold her waist.

“A second first kiss,” Beca says softly.

It makes Chloe tremble with all kinds of sadness, hope...and above all, faith that things will work out. 

"I can’t give you exactly what we had,” she murmurs, finally.

“I don’t need that, Chlo,” Beca says, still soft and careful. “I just need you. I’ve grown to accept that. I told you.” They separate further, but not before Beca cups Chloe’s cheek. She smiles when Chloe leans into her touch, eyes flicking up to meet hers. “Kiss me again,” she says before she can stop herself. She has been missing Chloe terribly and that kiss sparked something that she thought died long ago.

Chloe leans in again and their lips barely graze before she’s pushing Beca back gently. She wants Beca to know exactly what she’s in for because she doesn’t think she can turn back from this. Not again - not ever. “There are a lot of things that I can’t really do anymore - like being myself. I’m still learning every day what that means.”

“It doesn’t mean that I don’t think you’re an incredible person,” Beca interrupts. “I want to be with you.”

"Beca,” Chloe says, wanting nothing more to kiss her again. Beca is still breathing heavily. “I want that, too.” She closes her eyes imagining that finally the cold brisk air is kicking up around them, bringing with it all the heavy pain they’ve carried for months.

“How do you still make me feel like I’m nineteen again?” Beca’s voice is thick, like she’s on the verge of crying - not quite again, but almost. “How do you manage to find ways to amaze me every day?” Beca asks, weaker.

Slowly, carefully, Chloe wraps her arms around Beca and holds her - truly holds her like Beca is something precious to be cradled. She feels like crying or maybe just sighing because it’s comfort and warmth all at once. 

“I don’t know,” she murmurs, pressing a kiss to the side of Beca’s head. She holds her close, relishing the warmth and how softly Beca sinks into the hug. “Maybe because you make me better,” she whispers. 

She’s not sure where the words come from exactly, but they feel right. 

Beca makes a soft whimpering noise, but holds on to her tighter. “Thank you,” Beca breathes letting her feelings run free once more. Her breath is warm against Chloe’s neck. “We will make this work. I promise.” 

“I believe you,” Chloe tells her, knowing it’s nothing but the truth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want, come chat with me on [Tumblr](http://isthemusictoblame.tumblr.com/)!


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My recommended song for this chapter is: Mine - Bazzi.
> 
>  
> 
> **Check out this fic's soundtrack[here](https://open.spotify.com/user/shimmy.theresa/playlist/4ippY2rIUAH6f4cERHdsVl?si=8Wewdp5tTL6EUSnCCTJe7A).**

_ “I’m so sorry,” Beca says quickly, rushing up to where Chloe’s sitting patiently at their reserved table. _

_ “It’s okay,” Chloe says, standing. She pulls Beca for in for a thorough kiss, one usually reserved for the privacy of their home. “You’re here now,” she murmurs, kissing Beca once again for good measure. _

_ “I - I…” Beca blinks, shaking the force of Chloe’s kiss from her mind as best as she can. “I’m sorry I’m late. They were talking about putting me-” _

_ “Bec,” Chloe says gently. “It’s fine. You know I understand.” She reaches for Beca’s hand once Beca sits down, fully. “You’ll never have to explain it to me. I’ve been here for the entire journey, haven’t I?” She pushes a menu towards Beca. _

_ “Don’t you still want to hear about it?” Beca asks, exaggerating a pout for Chloe’s benefit. _

_ “We have all the time in the world, Bec.” _

 

* * *

 

 

Beca fumbles for her phone which she can hear buzzing on her bedside table. She sighs, rolling over from where she had been cuddling Chloe’s old pillow and slowly falling asleep.

Blearily, she glances at the screen before answering. “Chlo,” she greets, eyes still closed. “It’s kinda late,” she mumbles.

“Will you go out with me? On a date?” Chloe asks, the moment Beca picks up the phone.

Beca blinks, nearly dropping her phone. She’s more awake, suddenly.

“Bec?” Chloe feels  _ shy  _ for the first time in a while. She feels shy because she feels like she’s asking out her high school crush. Or maybe because she’s asking the woman who had been her  _ fiancée _ out on a date.

“I – I think I’m allowed just, like, one moment to process that,” Beca says, voice coming out on an appealing rasp. She can’t help the disbelieving laugh that escapes her. Chloe grins a little at the sound. “You called me in the middle of the night to tell me that? To ask me out?” Beca can’t resist, because the love that rushes through her at that moment overwhelms her. “You’re so weird,” she murmurs affectionately, lovingly.

Chloe’s laugh is light and Beca can practically  _ hear  _ her smile. “Thanks,” she says, like an echo of an exact moment in Beca’s mind. It is so far removed at this point, but it still sends a pang through her heart.

“I couldn’t sleep,” Chloe admits.

“Are you okay?” Beca asks quickly. “What’s wrong?”

Chloe laughs at that a little bit – mostly because nothing  _ feels  _ wrong for the first time in a while. She feels like she can breathe again and she feels like all she needs is to have Beca by her side. “Nothing’s wrong, Bec,” she says softly. “I promise.”

Beca swallows. “Chlo,” she murmurs.

Chloe hums in response.

“Ask me again,” she implores quietly.

The slow exhale she hears over the line only makes her grip her phone tighter.

“Beca Mitchell,” Chloe begins. “Will you go out with me on a date? An honest-to-God date?”

“I…yeah, of course I’ll go out with you,” Beca says, as if she’d decline  _ that _ invitation. She yawns. “I mean, you kissed me, so. It makes sense.”

It’s so wonderfully awkward and so  _ Beca _ that Chloe doesn’t even bother feigning surprise at the shock of affection that runs through her. She just lets it kind of envelop her and warm her.

”So, uh,” Chloe says lightly. “How’ve you been?”

“I’ve been good,” Beca says as if they didn’t just see each other a couple days ago. “Still working on music. It’s been a lot of studio work, but I’ll get there…” She trails off, pondering. Chloe lets her, enjoying the silence for once. “How about you? Heard you went to Atlanta recently.” It’s meant to be lighthearted, but Chloe’s little sigh tells her that this late night phone call serves a dual purpose.

“I’ve been remembering things,” Chloe tells her with some reservation in her voice. She’s all for the memories, but not if they’re going to get Beca’s hopes up all the way. “I - I wanted to tell you earlier, but we kind of...got carried away,” she says, referring to how they ended up retiring to Beca’s father’s house and making out for a few minutes before slowing to gently trading kisses in the guest room until they dozed off. 

The next day, it went largely as an unspoken agreement to not talk about it until they returned to Los Angeles.

“What kind of things?” Beca asks quietly, picking up on the quietly serious tone to Chloe’s voice. She’ll return to the topic of kissing Chloe later. “Like...everything?”

“No, not everything,” Chloe says, hoping that Beca isn’t too disappointed. “I…I think they’re memories, but they mostly feel like emotions, if anything. I remembered, mostly randomly, how you helped me with a papercut once.”

Beca laughs, a little shakily at that. It’s so small, but so monumentally amazing to her that Chloe remembers things at all. It’s more than she could have asked for. “Once?” she asks. “Try like ten thousand times. You’re the clumsiest person I know.”

“That can’t be true,” Chloe protests, voice bordering on a whine. “Aubrey told me you once walked into a trap. A literal trap.”

“Well, I mean...there wasn’t a sign. That I saw.” Beca huffs and it’s adorable. Chloe grins again.

They fall into a comfortable silence once more. Chloe tries not to think about whether Beca’s lying sprawled in her bed, or more specifically, whether she’s wearing those attractive pajama shorts.

She shakes her head, clearing her head. “Beca,” she begins. “I’ve missed you,” she says, because it’s true and she wants Beca to know that.

“I just saw you,” Beca points out, though she keeps her voice playful. She feels like she could talk to Chloe forever, if she wanted.

“You know what I mean.” Chloe sighs. “It’s weird, because you’re  _ here _ , but I just...miss you.”

“I’m right here.”

“I know.”

Beca’s breathing is slow and steady, almost like she’s falling back asleep. “I’ve missed  _ you _ ,” Beca replies. “More than songs can express, probably. Like, you’d think that as a musician, I’d have a better way of saying that.”

Chloe doesn’t say anything to that, simply smiling over the line.

“Sorry, that was kinda cheesy,” Beca finally says after a pause.

“Yeah, it was,” Chloe agrees, even though Beca hadn’t asked. “I liked it.”

_ I like you _ .

“I like you,” Beca says, so quiet that Chloe almost misses it.

Figures Beca would beat her to the punch.

Chloe can’t help the giddy feeling that rises up in her. “Tell me again,” she says.

Beca laughs, sounding a bit sleepier than before. “I like you, Chloe Beale.”

Chloe smiles, feeling herself sinking into her own dreamworld.

Before she falls, she ensures she lets out a sleepy, “I like you, too.”

 

* * *

 

 

Chloe picks up a copy of InStyle sitting on the glass table in front of her. Around her, people bustle past her, going about their regular business.

**_EXCLUSIVE: Backstage photos from the 2019 Grammy Awards inside! Pages 14 and 15!_ **

She flips it open, finding the spread inside. She’s pleasantly surprised to see Beca’s face splashed across the inside, though less pleased at the sight of Beca leaning against her  _ non _ -date that evening.

It makes Chloe’s head hurt.

Despite their newfound closeness, Chloe finds herself missing Beca more than normal, though it likely has to do with the fact that Beca seems to be gearing up for some kind of tour, performing her own music as an opening act for one of the label’s artists.

She has listened to Beca’s music - her own original work as well as the music she has worked on for other artists - and she can say, completely unbiased, that Beca is quite possibly the most talented person she knows.

Unfortunately, other people know that fact too, something Chloe realizes will only continue to be flaunted in front of her.

She lingers in the lobby, staring at glass ceilings and tall windows. She feels exposed and bare, like every eye is on her - like people recognize her, but she doesn’t recognize them in return. Added on top of everything, her headache is being fairly persistent today, so she had been looking forward to a nice lunch with her - her Beca.

“Hey!” Beca’s voice calls from the elevators. Chloe turns at the sound and smiles at the sight of Beca power-walking towards her. 

“Hi,” she says, reaching for Beca just as Beca opens her arms for a hug. Chloe tries to stifle the little sound she makes when she sinks into Beca’s arms, contentedly closing her eyes.

“Ready for lunch?” Beca asks, adjusting her jacket.

“Sure, I thought we could-” She is cut off by a young, haggard-looking man rushing up to Beca with a clipboard and manila folder in hand. He breathes heavily, halting right in front of them.

“Beca, we need you to just finish signing these contracts. Also, you have a meeting with the marketing department in like...forty minutes.” He glances at Chloe apologetically. “Oh, hi Chloe.”

Chloe blinks, unsure. “I’m - I’m sorry, I don’t think we’ve met,” she says slowly, trying to place him in her mind.

“Oh, my name is Frankie, but we’ve only met once,” he says quickly when he catches Beca’s expression. “I’ll wait for you back upstairs,” he mutters, directed at Beca.

Chloe waits until he leaves. 

“You didn’t tell them,” she says quietly.

Beca sighs. “It’s not really anybody’s business but ours. Only some people know about the accident at all. I’m mostly lucky that I don’t have people breathing down my back every day and night.” She bites her lip. “Please don’t get mad, but I think there’s something I have to do and it can’t wait. I’ll come pick you up tonight?”

Chloe nods, a little hesitantly, but she gets it. This is all part of Beca’s life and now Chloe gets to be a part of it too. 

Chloe lets Beca peck her on the cheek before she disappears.

She just wishes she could remember being a part of Beca’s life - seeing all the growth and progress - the first time around.

She heads back to work, pondering.

 

* * *

 

 

They get to their little impromptu date later that evening and Chloe bites back a question she has been dying to ask for a while now.

It’s just something Chloe’s curious about.

So, she holds off until they’re strolling along the boardwalk and her hand is brushing Beca’s, fingers just itching to meet their other halves. She buys them both ice cream cones and carries it back to where Beca is leaning against the railing casually.

She decides to just ask because she’s not sure exactly what the protocol is for something like this – dating your (ex?) fiancée again, like it’s the first time.

They’re leaning against a railing at Santa Monica Pier, watching the flocks of both tourists and seagulls milling about.

Chloe demolished her ice cream cone long ago, so she’s enjoying the meticulous way Beca is consuming hers. It does something to Chloe’s chest, watching Beca do innocuous things here and there, like she’s relearning this woman in front of her. She supposes she is, in some way, but everything slots together in her mind so neatly and wonderfully that she can do nothing but greedily consume every moment she has with Beca.

It’s different, now that she has allowed herself to feel again, unapologetically and unabashedly.

“What?” Beca asks, when she catches Chloe’s gaze. Chloe merely smiles at her and thumbs away the fleck of ice cream from Beca’s chin. “Thanks,” she mutters, a little embarrassed. It’s both an old and new sensation, Beca thinks, walking alongside Chloe. She still marvels at how beautiful and wonderful Chloe is, but the fact that she gets to do this at all...

“I...you’ll forgive me if this isn’t first date protocol,” Chloe begins. “But I…wondered if I could ask you something.”

“Okay,” Beca says, turning her body to face her more fully. She reaches for Chloe’s hand, gently tugging her to stand a bit closer.

"Did you meet anyone?" Chloe asks, after a moment. The moment the question leaves her, she feels, amidst curiosity, a vulnerability that strikes her as both old and new.

Beca blinks, confused. “What do you mean? When?”

"When we were…when I was in Portland and you were here. Was there someone for you?"

Beca stares at Chloe, wishing she could figure out exactly what is going through her mind. "No," she says finally and with nothing but honesty. Her brow furrows a little, wondering if they’re going to rehash this, but she supposes Chloe’s curiosity has more to do with the status of their relationship than anything. "I...haven’t been with anybody since you," Beca mumbles, turning to stare at the ocean again. It’s not embarrassing, but she feels a little shy under Chloe’s piercing gaze.

Chloe’s silence makes her glance up. She catches sight of Chloe’s smile – it’s gentle and tinged with affection. “I don’t mean sex, Beca,” she murmurs, ignoring the blush that rises up on her cheeks. “I meant…did you meet anybody who…who you thought, maybe-?”

Beca makes a small grunting sound, somewhere between a huff and a sigh. She ignores the ice cream that’s now dripping down her hand in favour of tilting her head to stare at Chloe almost incredulously. “Chlo,” she says, with finality that she hopes is more assertive than her definitive “no” earlier.

“Bec,” Chloe echoes.

They stare at each other for a moment.

Chloe finally shakes her head and pulls a little at Beca’s hand before sliding a hand to gently grip her waist. “I’d want you to tell me,” she says quietly. “I’d want you to be honest with me. It’s just…I’ve thought about it a lot and how different our lives would be.”

“Chloe,” Beca begins, swallowing thickly at their proximity. She’s still reconciling how close they can be with each other now, wondering where her own boundaries are and how much she can do, even if all she wants to do is kiss Chloe again like they did that night in Barden.

Chloe powers onwards. “There…isn’t any reason why you wouldn’t have met somebody, even in that tiny period of time we were apart.” She ignores the lump in her throat because she knows how true these sentiments are. “I’d want you to be happy and I know I’d understand.”

Beca’s eyes flash with something. Not anger exactly, but something closer to sadness. "There wasn’t anybody, I promise. And…I think you know why there wouldn’t have been anybody." She sighs, looking down at her cone, ensuring she’s holding it away from their bodies so it doesn’t drip onto their clothes. “Do you...want me to make somebody up?”

Chloe plucks the ice cream cone from Beca’s hand and bites into the waffle. “No,” she laughs. “You know what I want, I think.”

"Chloe,” Beca says, watching as Chloe finishes off her ice cream cone. “Chlo, I work in the entertainment industry.”

“I am aware,” Chloe mutters, thinking of all the gorgeous men and women who hang off her all the time.

Beca’s eyes light up at the mild possession in Chloe’s tone. “But, I mean, I meet a lot of seriously cool people every day. They’re talented, they’re attractive, sure, but I have  _ never _ thought about any of them in any way other than a completely professional sense.”

"Why not?" Chloe asks. “You thought I had found somebody in Portland, even after a shorter period of time.”

Beca frowns at the memory, guilt and residual pain racking through her. She sees similar pain in Chloe’s eyes. They hadn't talked about Chloe. Beca hadn't thought to ask her the same question and she wished now that she'd done it a lot sooner, like when Chloe first moved back. "Wasn’t there someone for you? Whatever his name was," Beca mutters.

(She remembers.)

"You mean while I was trying to figure out who I was? Who I am?" Chloe asks, laughing a little. She’s glad they can talk about this with levity as opposed to pain.

"It's not totally impossible, okay," Beca murmurs.

"Honestly, it was a little impossible," Chloe said. "I went for  _ me _ , not find somebody new above all. Believe me when I say Matt was an anomaly."

“Matt now, huh?” Beca asks, though it lacks bite. She’s just enjoying the way the ocean breeze kind of ruffles Chloe’s hair a little and how they’re standing close enough that she can smell Chloe’s shampoo.

Chloe rolls her eyes.

"But,” Beca says. “The fact remains, you met somebody you liked. Even if it was just in a friendly way. You met somebody that had no expectations of you and was a blank slate if you wanted.”

"A friend, yeah. Not anybody I could see myself being with."

Beca purses her lips, nodding sagely. "That’s…disappointing or something, I guess."

Chloe scoffs. “Yeah, you look really disappointed, Bec.”

"Oh, I am."

"I wasn't looking," she says, finally, with honesty that shines through her eyes. Beca sees it and nearly sags in relief.

“I wasn’t looking either,” Beca replies. “I…found everything I need.”

There’s some hesitance to Beca’s words like she’s not sure Chloe is ready to hear these things – whether Chloe is fully comfortable with them, even though they’re on a date. It fuels Chloe’s attraction to her.

“Honestly,” Beca continues, in Chloe’s silence. “That distance was for the best, you know? It was nice to have time to ourselves, wasn’t it?”

Chloe feels something loosen inside her chest. Like she can breathe again. "Yeah.”

“But…now,” Beca murmurs, cupping Chloe’s cheek. It’s warmed from the sun. She gently rubs her thumb over soft skin before leaning up to kiss her.

It’s soft and sweet - an even gentler kiss than their shared kiss in the Barden courtyard. Beca sinks into it, closing her eyes, wondering if she’ll ever get over the sensation of kissing Chloe, especially now that she cherishes each moment (more than before) like it’s the first day of the rest of their lives over and over again.

“I hope that was okay,” she mumbles, pulling back.

Chloe shakes her head before pulling Beca into a tight hug. Around them, sound fades to a distant buzz. All Chloe can feel is the gentle press of Beca’s body against hers, as perfect as ever. "Beca,” she whispers. “You know I still have a long way to go, don't you?"

Beca lets out a shaky sigh, feeling simultaneously ecstatic and hesitant. “I know,” she whispers. “I promise to be here for you.”

“I know you will be,” Chloe says.

Believing Beca is as natural as breathing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want, come chat with me on [Tumblr](http://isthemusictoblame.tumblr.com/)! Thanks for reading.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes it is best not to rush things, especially not second chances at love.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My recommended songs for this chapter are: human - Christina Perri; Let It Be Me - Ray LaMontagne.
> 
>  
> 
> **Check out this fic's soundtrack[here](https://open.spotify.com/user/shimmy.theresa/playlist/4ippY2rIUAH6f4cERHdsVl?si=8Wewdp5tTL6EUSnCCTJe7A).**

“And how have you been feeling, Chloe?” Doctor Forham asks, consulting a clipboard. “Memories?”

“A few,” Chloe admits, a small smile gracing her lips at the thought.

“And what about your headaches? Anything worse?”

Chloe thinks about the spikes of pain that occasionally disrupt her day. She bites her lip, thinking of how worried Beca had been the first time around.

“Chloe?”

“I...some. Nothing too horrible, I promise.”

Doctor Forham looks concerned, but nods slowly. “Still need that prescription, though? For the pain? I can’t just...prescribe you medication, Chloe. You have to tell me what you’re going through so we can assess it. Headaches are normal, especially if you feel very stressed. Stress is a major trigger.”

She just wants to power through.

Move on, now that she feels like she can live for something again.

For somebody.

She opens her mouth to speak.

 

* * *

 

It’s slow at first - lazy kisses in the morning, followed by shared breakfast. Staying over at each other’s apartments more frequently.

Chloe loves the way Beca holds her - both with possession and gentleness, somehow allowing the two emotions to coexist.

It’s a bubble that Chloe is all too happy to exist in - something that she takes in with a selfishness because she knows this is only a blessing that she was allowed to experience this at all. She imagines, with brief pangs of fear, what might have happened if she had denied herself and Beca this chance at something both old and new, all wrapped up in this experience they’re going through together.

So it’s slow - it’s slow, even in the way they experience their first time - their second first time as Chloe has dubbed it in their head. There’s something that threatens to spill over inside Chloe and it hurts because it’s so much more than that. She wants to cry and laugh all at once, but she settles on pulling Beca in close, holding her because she’s afraid, knowing that this is something that she can’t let go of.

Chloe cries afterward - or maybe Beca does - but all she knows is that tears are shed at both the loss and rebirth of something so precious and intimate between them. Chloe traces new lines on Beca’s body - everything is new, new, new - while Beca retraces everything she remembers about Chloe with sure hands and nimble fingers.

It’s so slow and soft and Chloe relishes it.

Then, suddenly, in a blink, their lives are fast and Chloe’s head nearly spins, trying to keep up.

Chloe is struggling to get used to Beca’s increasingly hectic schedule. There’s a certain amount of independence that Beca now requires - something that drives her further away from Chloe than she’d like (than either of them would like), but it’s not something that can be helped.

Chloe is as supportive as she can be, willing to maintain the still weakened legs of their new-old relationship while Beca works on her album and her network and her general celebrity personality.

It’s...incredible, to say the least.

It happens so quickly that Chloe doesn’t have the heart to tell Beca that her headaches have been a little worse recently, a little more persistent. Chloe enjoys sitting in bed with the lights off because it means she doesn’t have to stare at something that triggers a specific memory. It has become overwhelming as of late.

But suddenly, Beca is busy and unavailable. Chloe blinks and Beca is everywhere.

But, everywhere doesn’t mean by Chloe’s side, even if that’s all she wants.

It’s a conflict in Chloe’s mind, probably stressing her out more than it should.

Beca doesn’t seem to notice anything, which Chloe is grateful for.

She takes her medication, continues forward, and pushes through. Recovering memories can’t be an easy process and she just wants to remember as much as she can, more so than ever, because being with Beca is everything.

In fact, Beca wants to involve Chloe in her process; her artistry. She wants to bring Chloe to events, hold her hand and show the world that Chloe is the only one for her (again).

The first time they try to attend an event publicly, however, is disastrous.

It’s a lowkey event - as in there isn’t really a long show to sit through. It’s a benefit,

But also devastating in some ways because Chloe still isn’t used to seeing this side of Beca.

It’s not to say that Beca is emotionally distant. She still sends Chloe heart emojis with her texts. When they have lunch, she holds Chloe’s hands with a tenderness and comforting touch that can only be born out of Beca’s own previous experience being in love with Chloe.

She holds Chloe’s hand on the red carpet, pausing to take photos. Chloe averts her eyes for the most part, opting to hang off to the side with Beca’s publicist. She hears her own name being called, but she can’t ever recall being a part of this.

“You should take a few photos with her,” Beca’s publicist says kindly. “If you want, of course.”

“Does she want that?” Chloe asks, hesitant.

“Of course she does.”

Chloe turns to see Beca glancing at her. When she catches Chloe’s eye, she smiles a little wider and a little more sincerely, gesturing with her head that Chloe should join her.

So, Chloe does. She takes Beca’s hand, following her lead.

When she faces cameras, nothing quite prepares her for the onslaught of flashes that immediately assault her eyes.

Still, Beca’s hand is steady and sure around her waist, holding her close.

“I’m here,” Beca murmurs.

Chloe blinks taking in the sensation of what it means to be by Beca’s side. “I’m here, too,” she says, finally; faintly.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

The rest of the evening is a blur.

Chloe feels like she’s living on a lag of some kind - like there’s a memory of this attempting to rise to the surface, but she’s trying to just - just focus and it’s so damn hard. Beca’s hand is comforting on her knee, the only anchor she has.

She’s not sure where the panic comes from, really. It’s the knowledge that she has, in some sense, failed at being what Beca needs on some level. She hadn’t originally taken all of this - the lights, the cameras - into account.

Still, it’s not enough to deter her and Chloe pushes through, stealing away only once to take medication in the bathroom.

“Are you okay?” Beca asks quietly when Chloe returns.

Chloe nods, leaning in to press her lips to Beca’s blessedly warm and soft cheek.

She’s just fine.

She waits for Beca to finish chatting with another producer or director or actor - Chloe has no idea anymore. She waits to the side, wondering if she should attempt talking to somebody or just wait.

Thankfully, Beca wraps up quickly and is by her side fast enough. “Let’s go home,” Beca says in a tone that sends a pleasant tingle up Chloe’s spine. She doesn’t have time to dwell on it however, because the moment they step out of the venue to wait for their car, the cameras are flashing again.

Chloe blinks, somehow seeing a very vivid image of a truck’s headlights speeding right towards them. She squeezes her eyes shut as best as she can, tilting her body further into Beca’s side.

_Nothing’s going to happen._

_We’re fine._

Weeks of stress have built up, however, and all Chloe feels is nausea bubbling inside her as they finally climb into the backseat of the car. Beca’s hand on her knee is the only thing keeping her from hurling out the window.

_I’m here. I’m alive._

She briefly tries to think about how many times she’s taken her medication that evening alone.

Her headache worsens and worsens until she finally sees black. She doesn’t even know if she makes it home.

 

* * *

 

Beca is terrified – the same kind of terrified she had been when she had first heard about Chloe’s accident.

To see Chloe collapse – to see her body crumple to the ground, it lights everything inside Beca’s chest on fire.

She rests her forehead against the cool metal of Chloe’s hospital bed, just praying for some kind of reprieve.

"Beca,” Chloe’s voice rasps above her.

Beca glances up, taking note of how bright Chloe’s eyes look – how much brighter they are under the fluorescent hospital light.

How tragic it is, that they find themselves here again.

“What happened?” Chloe asks.

Beca almost wants to laugh because the concern in Chloe’s voice is directed at her. She’s sure she must look a mess – dressed in a heavy overcoat, covering her bare shoulders. Her dress is probably a little dirty.  Beca could care less.

It’s like something in Beca comes to life. She immediately stands and cups Chloe’s cheek. Without thinking about it, she leans down, kissing her thoroughly – and gently – unable to help herself.

“Not that I’m…complaining about that,” Chloe says, swallowing thickly when Beca pulls back. “Are you okay, Bec?”

Relief jolts through Beca’s body and she says nothing, simply grabbing at Chloe’s hand as best as she can while her eyes remain locked on Chloe’s face. She doesn’t even realize she’s crying until Chloe’s face morphs into an expression of concern. “Beca?” she asks again, more insistently. “ _Why_  are you crying?”

“You scared the shit out of me,” Beca manages to say, finally. “You don’t remember passing out, do you?”

“I passed out,” Chloe repeats. Her eyes dim. “At the benefit? I’m so sorry, Bec.”

Beca chokes back another sob. “No, we had already left, but I could kind of see you were out of it the whole ride home. We had just gotten out of the car when it stopped at my place. I caught you before you hit the ground.” Beca looks so stricken and pained that Chloe doesn’t know what to do for a moment.

They sit in silence and Chloe tries to run through exactly what happened.

“I was running,” Beca says, seemingly out of the blue.

Chloe furrows her brow. She tries to contextualize that - tries to imagine what Beca could be talking about, but she comes up short. “Running from what?” Chloe asks hesitantly. “Me?”

“No, I could never run from you.” Beca’s eyes are loving. “It’s not like you’d let me run away anyway. I think I was just...running from all the pain we’ve been through. I was...so happy that we were back in some kind of groove,” Beca admits. She looks guilty, upset, and immensely sad. “I didn’t realize how much this was affecting you because I was so happy to just be with you again.”

“Beca, don’t,” Chloe says gently. Quietly. She vaguely realizes that she had been right in assessing that Beca was avoiding something. She never thought about how it might have been affecting Beca - this take-two of their relationship. “Please don’t blame yourself - not when I wanted the exact same thing.” Beca looks at her questioningly. “I was...everything felt normal for once. I thought I could ignore all the ways that I felt like I was slipping, but I didn’t realize until it was too late, I guess.”

Chloe focuses on just breathing for a moment, grounding herself in the sensation of Beca’s thumb rubbing across the top of her hand.

“I should have talked to you,” she finally says, just as Beca whispers “we could have just talked.”

They glance at each other and sitting in that hospital room, away from prying eyes, they finally feel like the winds are blowing in the right direction. Chloe sees vibrant colour in Beca’s eyes.

“Tell me everything,” Beca says, pulling her chair closer to Chloe’s bedside.

“Only if you do the same,” Chloe murmurs.

Beca kisses her hand. “I promise.”

 

* * *

 

Steadily and slowly, they come back into a routine that works for both of them. Beca acclimatizes to being sure that Chloe is okay with things if she feels an ounce of uncertainty. Chloe learns that Beca enjoys her own space from time to time and accepts that there will never be enough time in the world for Chloe to get used to Beca’s career and how fast it seems to be taking off.

Accommodations are made and they learn to move on. Chloe tries not to think about how concerned Beca looks everything they sit together for lunch, but she’s also trying to lower her stress levels to avoid another blackout at her doctor’s behest.

Chloe has taken to leaving her engagement ring tucked safely in her drawer more frequently because it feels like some kind of relic of the past more often than not.

She traces the engraving, just once, before setting it down.

It’s less about remembering love, but embracing it in whatever shape and form she gets - and she’s blessed enough to get Beca Mitchell.

Weeks later, Chloe feels more at ease. She talks to Beca regularly, even if it’s just for a few moments over the phone - even when Beca is away, on another coast, or simply extremely busy. Chloe finds her own work schedule has picked up as well as the assignments she’s been doing on her own time for the classes she audits.

For some reason, it isn’t anything particular that triggers this memory. Chloe is just enjoying her lunch when it strikes her that she has a vivid image in her head suddenly of Beca punching a man right in the face.

She nearly drops her fork and greedily replays it and replays it in her mind. It expands and expands until she’s there, sitting comfortably in the memory, remembering what it had felt like to be with her fellow Bellas, high off a second-place finish. Aubrey had been there. Stacie, Fat Amy – and Beca. Of course, Beca.

It’s interesting to Chloe because she recalls that she had been stunned and shocked at Beca’s steadfast loyalty and dedication to protecting her friends. The brief spike of jealousy tells her that maybe Beca hadn’t been defending herself or Chloe, but somebody else, but his – or her – name evades her and she wonders if it was really ever that important to begin with.

Chloe sits back in her chair, trying to come back into her own body slowly and surely.

Beca had been so young and vibrant.

There’s a part of Chloe that laments missing all the ways in which Beca has grown and changed. She tries to piece it all together in her mind – tries to envision what it must have been like to watch Beca become the woman she is today, and in hindsight, how it must have affected her own transformation.

Within the past year, Chloe thinks that she can’t imagine being anywhere else, other than by Beca’s side. It is both so achingly familiar and yet, hovering just out of Chloe’s grasp because she knows it isn’t exactly the same – not even close.

But the fact remains, she’s in love with Beca Mitchell and that’s-

“I’m in love with Beca,” Chloe says, aloud, with reverence in her tone.

She doesn’t care that she’s alone – there’s something about the emptiness of her home suddenly that doesn’t feel quite so oppressive because the realization that she’s in love with Beca fills up all the gaps she had been struggling with all this time.

Even the revelation calms her and relaxes her, telling Beca that she’s in love with her is no easy task. She wonders how Beca will react. Rationally, she knows Beca will behave no differently because Beca is still years ahead of her, waiting patiently at some unmarked finish line.

The thought still terrifies her that maybe one day all her memories will come flooding back in some freak event that will cause her to lose everything about this experience of falling in love with Beca all over again.

But in either scenario, she’s in love with Beca Mitchell and she supposes that’s the only thing that matters.

(It’s the only thing that matters to her, then and now.)

She thinks about it for days; she thinks about screaming it from the highest possible point she can find.

 

 

* * *

 

 

**Chloe**  
_I’m in love with Beca_

 **Aubrey**  
_i’m so mad at you because it’s literally 2 a.m._

 **Aubrey**  
_But congrats on falling in love...again, you giant dork._

 

 

* * *

 

It’s just a nondescript Wednesday evening when Beca calls her. Chloe had been battling a migraine nearly all day, but when Beca calls it’s like her entire body uncoils and relaxes immediately.

“Hey, you,” Chloe says quietly. “How was work?”

“How are you feeling?” Beca asks softly, ignoring Chloe’s inquiry. “Better?”

Chloe sighs. “Yeah. Now that we’re talking. I’m just lying in bed.”

“Tell me more,” Beca says, after a short pause. Chloe can just picture Beca’s shit-eating grin.

“Fine. I’m wearing my favourite sweatpants and that t-shirt you bought me from the pier. I also think I must look a little bit like death because I haven’t showered in like two days.”

“You look beautiful,” Beca tells her, sure and sincere.

As always, Chloe believes her. She blushes under the attention.

“Beca?” Chloe asks. “Sing something to me?”

“Okay,” Beca agrees. “Anything specific?”

“That - that Christina Perri song that you really like?” Chloe asks. She has been craving to hear Beca sing it for the past two weeks. It seems to resonate within her, like an anchor holding them together.

“Human?” Beca asks, quieter than before.

“That’s the one. I’d love to hear you sing it.”

“I’d love to sing it for you.”

There’s something palpable in the air - something that Chloe can’t quite place. She chalks it up to her headache and how tired she feels suddenly, but it’s this shift that makes Chloe’s heart nearly burst with how much pure, unadulterated love she feels for Beca at that moment - and she hasn’t even begun singing yet.

When Beca does begin, however, Chloe greedily takes it in. She  commits this to memory - every moment about this, from how she’s lying in bed, warm - if not a little lonely - and listening to the sound of Beca’s pleasant lilt echoing over the phone. It’s clear and gentle, the way Beca enunciates the words, like each lyric means something.

And maybe it does - Chloe can’t be certain.

She just knows that she’s in love with this woman.

“How was it?” Beca asks, after the first chorus ends.

Chloe lets out a pleased sound; a little hum. “You’re perfect.”

Beca chuckles. “How are you?”

“I’m perfect, right now.”

Beca makes a small sound of agreement, but says nothing else.

“Beca, there’s something I have to tell you,” Chloe says, when Beca begins humming again.

There’s a pause, then hesitantly, “what is it?”

Chloe takes a breath. “I kind of just…wanted you to know that I’m in love with you. I don’t know how long it’s been, but it has only been something that has grown over the course of this past year. Even through everything. You’ve been there for me in ways I can’t even imagine. And you’re honestly the strongest person I know.”

Chloe takes a breath.

“So, yeah. I’m in love with you and I just thought you should know.” It’s not the most glamorous way to tell Beca that, but for some reason, it fits comfortably. Snugly.

Silence.

Maybe not.

It makes her sit up. "…Babe?” The affectionate moniker slips easily out, not as jarring as it once might have been.  _How far we’ve come,_  Chloe muses absently while Beca seems to struggle with her words.

“No, you – are you sure?” Beca asks, though it sounds more like a cry.

Chloe nearly cries from the relief she feels at that moment. “Pretty sure,” she says lightly. She sniffles, swiping at tears she didn’t realize she was shedding. “Yeah, pretty sure.”

“You're telling me this over the phone? Chloe! You bitch!” There’s immediate ruffling of sheets and Beca’s heavy breathing as Chloe imagines she rushes to get dressed.

“Language,” she says teasingly.

“You literally just told me you’re in love with me and you correct my language choices? I really – you’re really something, Chloe Beale.”

Chloe smiles, throwing herself back onto her bed. She stares up at the ceiling, wondering what it had been like the first time – the first time around when she had told Beca she was in love – or maybe Beca had said it first?

The thought makes her simultaneously pleased and sad.

She forgets she’s on the phone until she hears Beca’s aggravated huff once more. “Why would you tell me over the phone? Over the fucking phone? We need to be, like – like hugging or something right now!”

Chloe bites back a grin and schools her face into something more serious so her tone comes out even. “I mean, I had other things in mind other than hugging, but if that’s what you want to do-”

“I’m coming over now!” Beca exclaims, nearly yelling.

“Yeah,” Chloe agrees, egging her on.

“I hate this.”

Chloe smiles and closes her eyes. There is a very small throbbing in her forehead, but it is so minor and easily dismissible compared to how important this feels – how much she’s actually feeling inside her chest at this moment. “Come over, Bec,” she implores quietly. “Or should I-?”

Beca squawks, though it sounds like less aggravated and more of a pleased sound. “No, I’ll come over. Of course I will. You’re fucking crazy.”

“Alrighty.”

“I’m dressed.”

“Okay.”

“I’m coming over right now,” Beca informs her. Chloe hears the slam of the apartment door in the background.

“You’re so delighted that you’re angry,” Chloe observes. “It’s so cute.”

It occurs to Chloe: It’s not that Beca is waiting for her at a finish line - it’s that she has been waiting for Chloe to meet her halfway so they can continue onwards together.

“I’m going to hit something,” Beca mumbles before hanging up.

Vividly, all Chloe can see in her mind is Beca punching that man straight in the face. It just makes her laugh over and over again.

She loves Beca.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want, come chat with me on [Tumblr](http://isthemusictoblame.tumblr.com/)! Thanks for reading. You can also check out my Bechloe Week multi-chaptered fic, _[show me where my armor ends](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15399822/chapters/35740992)_.


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chloe's birthday creeps up on them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for always reading and always leaving the most wonderful, thoughtful feedback.
> 
> My recommended songs for this chapter are: Things I'd Do For U - Astronomyy; I Can't Fall In Love Without You - Zara Larsson.
> 
> **Check out this fic's soundtrack[here](https://open.spotify.com/user/shimmy.theresa/playlist/4ippY2rIUAH6f4cERHdsVl?si=8Wewdp5tTL6EUSnCCTJe7A).**

Chloe whispers into the quiet air of Beca’s bedroom, "Tell me a story.”

It surprises Beca and maybe Chloe, a little, too because she stiffens as soon as it leaves her lips. Beca just focuses on holding Chloe’s hand a little tighter, tugging her close.

“What kind of story?” Beca asks curiously. “About work? A famous person I met?”

“No,” Chloe says softly. Slowly. She breathes steadily. “A story about us."

Beca stares up at the ceiling, sifting through a thousand memories all at once. She has no particular favourites because they all compete for the same level of affection. Beca only has affection to give when it comes to her memories of her life with Chloe, however, so she takes care in selecting a few.

Heaving a sigh – neither sad or resigned – Beca begins.

Lying in their bed, Beca tells Chloe about how she had feigned liking pineapples on pizza because Beca had enjoyed pineapple on pizza. She tells Chloe about how she brought Chloe to an album release party once and Chloe had spent the entire night chatting with one of the more senior record execs without realizing who he was. Beca had been horrified at first, but she relaxed seeing how at ease Chloe had been with her co-workers and industry professionals.

There was yet another time that Beca recalls, on a laugh, where Chloe’s family cat had been so suspicious of Beca at first and Beca spent nearly one entire day trying to get that damn cat to like her. By the end of that trip, Marshmallow had given a stamp of approval, clawing at Beca’s jeans and refusing to let her go.

As Beca talks, she finds herself unable to stop because it feels so freeing to finally share these memories with Chloe. In no way will she ever fault Chloe for not knowing or asking earlier because they both wanted time to exist as themselves again after the accident, but God, she only feels herself falling more in love with Chloe with each passing breath she takes. When she had proposed, she didn’t know that it would be _possible_ to fall in love with Chloe more than she already was, but there’s so much that she loves and appreciates about every moment she gets to spend by Chloe’s side, even if it’s just breathing steadily and remembering what it’s like to so truly _feel_ for another person.

And Chloe – Chloe drifts to the sound of Beca’s voice in her ear, quiet and intimate in the confines of the bedroom that they once called their own.

Gradually, as Beca finds her little anecdotes are winding down, Chloe's breathing grows heavy. It evens out slowly and she musters up enough strength to press a kiss against Beca’s cheek. “I love you,” she says, signalling the beginning of her slumber.

"I love you, too, Chlo," Beca murmurs, feeling a heavy sleepiness fall over her as well.

She can’t wait for tomorrow.

Beca spent so much time trying to figure out how to just live day-to-day, but there’s something so permanent and enduring about how she feels about Chloe and how they’re living, especially now. It’s hope, love, and immense gratitude all rolled into one.

They don’t begin their days with _good mornings_ or end their nights with _good night_ \- not anymore. It’s all in the “I love you” they exchange with surety and confidence and Beca has never felt luckier.

 _This is real_.

They weren't young adults fresh out of college. They had fallen in love _twice_ in one lifetime.

Falling in love with Chloe the first time around had been ridiculous with how it crept on Beca and exploded around her, but that had been _then_. Even with that knowledge and the memories of being with Chloe, falling in love with her a second time was completely different and more intimate. It was an addition, if anything.

Everything had evened out relatively even if the memory of the accident still echoed in Beca’s mind like a replayable nightmare.

 _We’re happy_.

To Beca, even as she drifts off fully, this is a point where she can look back and finally feel _okay_ ; she can finally look back and see the entirety of the mountain - the majority of it, at least.

And with Chloe by her side, it seems like the rest of the trek is finally doable.

It’s all about reaching that peak in which Beca can see the potential for a story to tell people and share with them this triumph in their lives together.

It's the kind of story that she would like to tell their children.

One day.

Beca hasn’t allowed herself to think about that in a while.

_One day._

 

* * *

 

 

_“Bec?”_

_Beca hums in response._

_“I love you,” Chloe says, propping her chin on her hand. She reaches out to play with the strands of hair that fall from Beca’s bun._

_Beca stifles a smile, focusing on writing her email to her co-worker. “Thank you very much,” she replies lightly._

_Chloe makes an aggravated sound and pokes Beca’s ear as best as she can. She shuffles her chair closer and tucks herself into Beca’s side as best as she can, sliding one hand up her thigh and the other around her waist. “I love you,” she murmurs again. “You’re not gonna say it back to me then?”_

_It’s on the tip of her tongue. Beca loves telling Chloe she loves her – she adores everything about being in love with Chloe Beale._

_She also loves teasing the hell out of her fiancée._

_“Maybe later,” she mumbles, resisting the urge to turn to Chloe and kiss her senseless. It doesn’t help that Chloe is currently kissing her neck._

_“Later?” Chloe repeats._

_“Maybe tomorrow.”_

_“I can’t believe I agreed to marry you,” Chloe says, finally giving in and reaching up to cup Beca’s cheek. She turns her head gently and leans in to press a slow, sensual kiss against her lips. “I should rethink this engagement,” Chloe murmurs, happy to have distracted Beca from her work when she feels Beca’s hands around her waist. She pushes at Beca’s shoulders forcing her to slide her chair back and moves to straddle her thighs, draping her arms over her shoulders._

_“I’d believe you if you weren’t currently trying to seduce me or the fact that you just told me you loved me.”_

_Chloe snorts at that. Her gaze softens and she moves to rest her forehead against Beca’s. “I love you,” she says. “Even when you’re being completely annoying.”_

_Beca’s laugh is light. Finally, she gives in. “I love you, too. So much. Don’t you forget it, Beale.”_

_She knows Chloe won’t._

 

* * *

 

 

It’s starting to feel like summer. Even though it’s the beginning of June, Chloe loves the cool breeze it brings with it even if there are some unbearable hot moments.

She has all but moved back in with Beca, but there’s something about the apartment that doesn’t quite feel like it’s their own anymore and she knows that Beca feels similarly. Chloe runs her fingers over familiar ridges and shelves, but she feels nothing too strikingly sad or happy as she does so.

It just... _is._

They’re preparing for a weekend away at a beach house rented out for Chloe’s birthday in a couple weeks. She feels giddy and excited, mostly at the thought of spending evenings cuddled up next to Beca with the sand all around them. She’s excited that Beca wrangled Aubrey and Amy and a few other Bellas to join them, though she had been adamant that they get a beach house with distinctly separate rooms.

Chloe rifles through her drawers, trying to figure out where she misplaced her favourite t-shirt. She’s sure she left it at Beca’s from the last time she stayed over, but she’s having some difficulty locating it.

“Chlo,” Beca calls. “I did some of your laundry with my own.” She holds up the t-shirt. “Looking for this?”

Chloe grins, leaping into Beca’s arms. “Thank _you_. Life saver.”

“You should just move in again,” Beca says, laughing. It’s lighthearted and free, like she’s joking, but Chloe isn’t when she pauses and seriously thinks about it.

“Okay,” she agrees quietly after a moment.

Beca is trying to kiss her when she draws back, like she’s unsure if she imagined that. “What?”

“Okay,” Chloe repeats. “Let’s...I’ll move back in.”

“I...I’m - I was just joking,” Beca attempts to say, but it’s weak and her eyes are wide. She’s also a little slackjawed.

“I’m not,” Chloe assures her. “I...I would love to move back in if you’ll have me.”

Beca makes a kind of strange high-pitched squeak before she’s tackling Chloe into a hug and burying her face into her neck.

Chloe hugs her back, laughing delightedly. “So, that’s a yes, right?”

Beca pinches her side and they tumble onto the bed.

 

* * *

 

They don’t actually figure it out so soon, but it’s on the table and in their plans for the future. That’s enough for Chloe.

Though -

 **Chloe  
** _I want you to help me with something._

 **Aubrey  
** _This better be good._

 **Chloe  
** _It is, I promise._

 **Aubrey  
** _I was just kidding...but I’m intrigued now. I’m in._

 

* * *

 

 

It’s a good birthday - great, even. Chloe loves being around people who make her laugh like no tomorrow.

Beyond that, she _loves_ how often Beca smiles.

She catches Beca in a similar state of mind, based on how often Beca is staring right at her, often with an expression of love or awe or something in between.

As they sit around the fire pit, at their little slice of the beach for the weekend, Chloe stares around at the people she loves - the people she has come to love. She feels a swell of affection rush through her because _this_ is her family. Her parents, her brother - she has always known this to be true that they are her family in blood and their endless support.

But she has learned that family comes in spades, especially from people who are willing to be there for her time and time again.

They’re sharing memories when Chloe tunes back into the conversation.

Chloe looks down at the blanket covering both hers and Beca’s laps, fiddling with a loose string. As she fiddles, Beca’s hand comes up to caress hers, covering her hand fully. It makes Chloe smile and she only tugs Beca closer even though they’re already both warm from the gently crackling fire in front of them. Tilting back, she can feel Beca’s steady breathing against her and the sure comfort of Beca’s arm wrapped around her back, her hand stroking comfortably at her hip.

Beca is the promise of everything wonderful – the promise that Chloe’s life would forever be _good_ , so long as she remembered that Beca Mitchell was it for her. There is no comparison, no compromise in Chloe’s mind these days. She can’t imagine anything else.

And even though the occasional stab of pain comes with the reminder that there are truly memories she will never see or recall again, Chloe finds strength in the promise - both from Beca and one she made to herself – that it didn't matter she no longer has those memories. It’s because she has Beca, Beca has her, and that alone is enough – better than _any_ memory.

Beca holds her closer, pressing a kiss to the top of her head, like she senses Chloe’s brief inner turmoil. Chloe squeezes her eyes shut, focusing on breathing deeply for the moment and how nice it feels to just be wrapped up in Beca’s arms.

"Chloe, why are you crying?" Aubrey asks, eyes softening. She says it quietly like she doesn’t really intend on letting everybody else hear, but it alerts everybody and they all turn to her with a concerned expression.

"Oh,” Chloe murmurs. She hadn’t even realized she had been shedding tears. She smiles a little wistfully at Beca who fixes her with a loving gaze. “No reason. I’m just happy to be here. Also, that wine was pretty strong,” she says to Amy.

Chloe finds it amusing how readily they all accept that explanation. Their friends nod and get back to their conversation, but Chloe tunes out. She smiles at Beca, less tearful than before, her heart filling itself to the brim when Beca tugs her hand to her lips to press the gentlest of kisses to her knuckles. Then, she mouths the words that had once terrified Chloe to the core: _I love you_.

Chloe knows.

She kisses Beca, to the soundtrack of their friends cooing and cheering them on.

She wouldn’t have it any other way.

 

* * *

 

 

Chloe drags Beca out to sit with her on the beach to watch the sunset when their friends are busy amassing swathes of alcohol for a night of drinking.

She wants this quiet moment with her girlfriend, just for a moment before they have to return to reality.

She thinks that Beca looks adorable in her zip-up sweater and leggings.

“Tell me a story about us,” she says to Beca when they’ve settled comfortably.

“Again?” Beca laughs a little. “Okay, what would you like to know?”

“Tell me...about the first time we met.”

“You’ve heard it before,” Beca points out.

“I know. But I feel like I’ve heard it from other people. What were you thinking, then?”

“Okay, okay. I…” Beca blows out some air, ruffling a strand of hair that fell into her face just moments ago. “I know the first time we met was at the activities fair, whatever Aubrey told you. But the first time I really...I really consider to be our first time meeting would have to be when you accosted me in the showers at my residence hall.”

Chloe bursts out laughing. “What?” Pause. “No, wait, sounds about right.”

“Yeah, you’re fucking crazy,” Beca mutters, though there’s no bite at all. Chloe grins. “You just kind of burst into my shower and asked me to _sing_ with you.”

“Why would I do that?” Chloe asks thoughtfully, like this is a legitimate academic inquiry. Beca giggles at the mindful expression on her face.

“I mean, you heard me singing or something. And you wanted me to audition for the Bellas.”

“Oh, well that makes sense,” Chloe says, still thoughtful. “You have such a beautiful voice.”

It’s so unexpectedly sincere and lacking all humour because of how serious Chloe is with that sentence that Beca reels for a moment. “Thank you,” she replies quietly.

“What happened next?”

“And we just...sang together. Titanium,” she points out, feeling less of a pang now than she might have just months ago. “It was popular at the time.”

“I love that song,” Chloe admits, recalling the time they sang together on the balcony.

Beca nods, sucking in a breath of air. “And...I guess I just love that memory a lot even though you freaked me the fuck out back when it happened. I just think about how far we’ve come and how stupid I was to deny how attracted I was to you, even then.”

Chloe hums, pleased. “I like that story.”

“I like you,” Beca says, feeling her own eyes well out with unexpected tears. They’re not particularly sad. Just from the excess of emotion. “I _love_ you,” she amends.

“I love you, too,” Chloe says, reaching for Beca to kiss her. “Thank you for making this birthday incredible. And don’t bother denying how much work you put into it.”

Beca laughs, digging her fingers into the fabric of Chloe’s sweater. “Happy birthday, baby,” she murmurs, deepening the kiss momentarily. She squeezes her eyes shut, willing herself not to cry because of how incredibly happy she feels at the moment.

When she pulls back, Chloe is looking no worse for wear, if not a little teary. Her cheeks are a little flushed and the sun is already casting a beautiful glow upon the side of her face.

“I have a story about us,” Chloe says softly, interrupting Beca’s assessment of her features. “And I hope to remember it for the rest of my life, so I’m going to tell you about it right now.”

Beca thinks she might cry again because of how intimate this all feels suddenly. She focuses on just staring right into Chloe’s eyes and nodding slowly along.

“What’s your story?” Beca asks, wonder on her face. “What did you remember?”

“It’s not so much something that I remembered,” Chloe says slowly. She unhooks the chain around her neck, holding out the engagement ring for Beca to look at.

“You’re…giving me your engagement ring?” Beca asks slowly, like she’s not sure whether she should be hurt or hopeful.

“Just to hold,” Chloe says gently. “I’ve read that inscription so many times since you gave it to me. I’ve memorized how it feels and imagined countless times what must have been going through your mind when you first had it made for me. For us.”

“To look at you is to remember love,” Beca echoes, repeating the engraving she memorized so long ago. “It’s true,” she says on a sniffle.

Chloe smiles, her own eyes beginning to water. She hates it when Beca cries. “I know this was a weekend meant to be spent with our friends – the friends you worked so hard to reintroduce to me and bring back into my life.”

“It’s your birthday,” Beca can’t help but say, reaching out to cup Chloe’s cheek. “Of course we want to spend time with you.”

“Beca,” Chloe warns, a smile on her lips. The ocean breeze ruffles Beca’s hair a little and she can’t help but reach out and tuck the errant strand away because all she wants to do is look at Beca’s face, unobstructed for once - unobstructed by self-doubt, lingering worries, pain, headaches - all the plights of the past year or so.

Chloe has never felt happier to be alive and she’s so glad that she gets to come home to Beca every day.

“Sorry,” Beca murmurs. She bites her lip, as if physically restraining herself from speaking. Chloe can’t resist, so she leans in, digging her hands into the sand and presses a kiss against Beca’s lips, if only to soothe her momentarily.

“As I was saying, this engraving has meant everything to me over the past year and I’m sure it meant a lot to me back then as well. We don’t...really talk about the things I can’t remember,” Chloe says slowly. “And that’s okay.”

“That’s okay,” Beca echoes, reaching for Chloe’s hand. She doesn’t seem to care there’s sand all over it. She weaves their fingers together.

“I...don’t think I’m ever going to remember everything, Beca,” Chloe says, like she has a thousand times before. “Some things will never come back. Maybe the memory of how you proposed to me the first time will be one of those lost memories. But, I don’t want us to be sad about that - not anymore.” She waits for Beca to nod. “This story that I want to share with you, it starts from the moment I opened my eyes in that hospital bed and had no idea who you were. Even then, I knew that you were _somebody_ important, regardless of whether I remembered that you and I were engaged.”

“Chloe,” Beca says thickly, choking on a sob.

“And, since then, you have never wavered, not once. I have never felt more comfortable to be myself and it’s all thanks to you. You make me better. You make everything about our relationship better. You make _us_ better and I can tell that it’s the same for all the people in our lives.” She gestures around the admittedly empty beach. “You have...touched every single person in our lives, I hope you know that.”

“I mean, so have you,” Beca murmurs. “Everybody you meet thinks you’re incredible.”

Chloe smiles, touched by Beca’s ability to constantly parry a compliment with her own. “This is all just to say that I am so in love with you, Beca Mitchell.” She digs into the pocket of her hoodie, feeling around for just a moment. “I know we can’t recapture everything completely, but that’s not the point. The point is, this is the story from here on out. Today, as I celebrate another year in my life, I want to know that you and I are in this together forever. Do you know how lucky I am to have experienced love with you _twice_?" 

Beca inhales sharply at that, beginning to cry in earnest.

"You have always been there, helping me rewrite and reread my story when I couldn’t find the words.”

With a trembling hand, she pulls out the ring she had managed to wrangle from pursuing and locating some of her own funds from before the accident. It’s a delicate princess cut with a shiny, simple band.

“You don’t have to give me back my engagement ring, not yet,” Chloe says gently over Beca’s quiet crying. “I just want you to know that I want to spend the rest of my life with you because life’s too short and I don’t want to wait another day.”

She doesn’t have time to say anything else because Beca’s arms are around her neck and she’s pushing Chloe back in the sand, crying into her neck while simultaneously pressing kisses over whatever skin she can find. Chloe holds fast to the small box, reaching up to tangle her fingers into Beca’s hair.

Finally, Beca’s lips seek out her own and they’re kissing as gently as they had for their first kiss or even their second first kiss.

Now, Chloe thinks this could constitute as a third first kiss - the one that is irrevocably imbued with the knowledge that they’re going to make it.

“Yes, by the way,” Beca mumbles against her mouth. “Yes, I’ll marry you.” She can’t muster more words, even if her brain is screaming at her to say something more.

_I’ve always been ready to marry you, even back when I didn’t have the words to say how I felt about you. Even back when you didn't know a thing about me._

“That’s good,” is all Chloe can think to say now that her words have seemingly run out. She pauses, propping open the box so Beca can look at the ring. “There’s an engraving of my own,” she murmurs. “It’s simple, but.” She resists the urge to shrug self-consciously.

Beca takes the box with her own trembling hand and peers at the band as best as she can in the dying sunlight.

There, as clear as day, reads the inscription _I remember._

Beca looks like she might burst into a fresh onslaught of tears, so Chloe quickly takes the box back and removes the ring. “May I?”

“Yes,” Beca says quietly, again. Together, they watch the ring slide onto Beca’s finger and it glints beautifully in the pink and orange of the sunset. “This is my favourite story,” she admits, unable to tear her eyes from her hand. She’s not really looking at the ring so much as she’s looking at the way Chloe’s hand is gently holding hers _and_ the fact that Chloe had put a ring on her finger at all.

 _I’ll never forget this_ , she thinks.

Aloud, “I’ll always remember this moment,” Beca assures Chloe.

And with a deep inhale, Chloe says, “Me too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want, come chat with me on [Tumblr](http://isthemusictoblame.tumblr.com/)!
> 
> Thanks for reading.
> 
> You can also check out the one-shot about their second-first time, set in between Chapters 9 and 10, _[here](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15447510)_.


	12. epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> All beginnings come to an end.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There were multiple endings that I played with here. Ultimately, I chose this one because it felt like the more natural conclusion to this story.
> 
> If you want, come chat with me on [Tumblr](http://isthemusictoblame.tumblr.com/)! Talk to me about other things you liked about this fic, this journey, and whether you wanna see some other excerpts from their life
> 
> Thanks for reading. Truly. This has been an extremely rewarding journey. The feedback, the genuine lives I've somehow touched along the way?? Thank you all so much. I love you all very much.

_Beca’s not sure what prompts her to do it._

_She finds Chloe after her slightly intoxicated karaoke performance, a smile on her face._

_“Hello,” Chloe greets, holding up her beer bottle in Beca’s direction. “That was…something. Nice song, Bec.”_

_“I’m going to kiss you now,” Beca declares, out of the blue. She figures she should just go through with it. “Please stop me, if you must.”_

_Chloe’s eyes widen and she manages half a nod just before Beca’s hands are gently cupping her cheeks. It’s a soft kiss, all things considered. Even unconsciously, Beca wants this first kiss to be perfect. She has only wanted it for the past few years or so. No big deal._

_Still, Beca pulls back on a gasp, fearful of whatever disgust will shine on Chloe’s face. Eyes still closed, she stumbles away, only managing to find her way out of the bar quickly._

_“Beca,” Chloe calls, rushing out after her. “Beca, wait-”_

_“Chloe,” Beca replies, spinning on her heel to face her. She feels embarrassed mostly, but she feels like every vulnerability is on display. “I didn’t mean it,” she mumbles._

_She might also be a little drunk. She wobbles, but Chloe catches her, arms wrapping around her waist to steady her. “Hey,” Chloe says softly. “You’re drunk.”_

_“Mm…wait,” Beca says, putting her hands on Chloe’s shoulders._

_“I’m done waiting,” Chloe says, in the most frank and blunt tone Beca has ever heard directed at her. “I’ve waited for you for years and I see now that it was the wrong decision.”_

_“Chlo.”_

_“Bec.” Chloe sighs, slowly removing an arm from around Beca’s waist. She reaches up to tuck an errant strand of hair away from Beca’s face._

_“I want to be with you now, while we have all the time in the world,” Beca blurts. “Because I have feelings for you or – or – yeah.” Beca is very conscious of how Chloe is still holding her. “Yeah,” she drawls out, staring up at Chloe._

_“You sang that song for a reason, didn’t you?” Chloe asks, not leaving room for Beca to breathe._

_“Yes,” Beca finally says, in the ensuing silence. “I want to be with you,” she repeats. “I don’t want you dating those random dudes – not anymore. Not when I – I’m here.” She’ll never lie to Chloe, not when her life feels like it’s on a precipice._

_“You kissed me,” Chloe says, like she’s set on detailing every single moment of Beca’s embarrassing evening._

_“I was made for you just like you were made for me,” Chloe says, like she’s already proposing. Beca’s alcohol-addled brain immediately flies to what it’d be like to marry Chloe and it’s the most freeing thought she’s had in a while. “And I hope that's enough for you.”_

_“Yes,” Beca says immediately._

_Chloe smiles, pulling Beca in for a tight hug. “Now, let’s get you home,” she says quietly. “We’ll talk about going on a date tomorrow, okay?”_

_Beca’s not sure she’s going to remember this in the morning, but she tries desperately to hold on to this moment._

_She’s got the rest of her life to figure it out._

 

 

* * *

 

They are surrounded by loved ones.

They are surrounded by their friends, family, and all the love they could possibly muster for each other.

“I have thought about at least two dozen speeches, all variations on how much I adore you,” Chloe begins. “Then, I remembered how much I want to build more memories with you. But first,” Chloe says, squeezing her hands gently. “I wanted to tell you about my favourite memory.”

Beca nods, trying not to nod too frantically.

“My favourite memory is you,” Chloe says, gentle and loving. She can tell already that neither her nor Beca will make it through the entirety of their vows. “You’ve never really been a memory – not a whole one at least. But, I don’t need that because with you, I get to feel everything all at once.” She smiles a little at Beca’s small sniffle, though she manages to still smile steadily at Chloe, encouraging.

Chloe can’t help but think of every moment Beca sacrificed and suffered – how far they’ve both come.

“We’ve been through a lot, but these memories - they’re the ones that matter. That's how it feels, being in love with you, Bec. Like everything matters.” Chloe doesn’t bother wiping at the tear that slips down her face. “Loving you was really one of the few things that made sense even everything felt like it was falling apart. If...if I can make it the rest of my life without breathing right by your side, where my only goal is to just pull a smile from you every day, then that is enough for me. I never want to forget the way you look at me; I never want to forget the way you smile at me and tell me you love me.

“I want to be able to look at you from across the table, whether we’re just having coffee in the morning, or just spending a nice evening in. I want to be able to look at you and just have a million memories to choose from. I want to remember you for the rest of my life.”

Beca knows she’s ruining her make-up completely.

“Whether I’m thinking about you a few seconds from now or fifty years from now, you’ve changed my life in the all the best ways possible, Beca Mitchell, and it would be my greatest honour to share the rest of my life with you.”

Beca has to resist the urge to kiss Chloe right then and there, so she settles on simply beaming at her, holding her hands just a bit tighter.

“Beca? Your vows.”

Beca thinks that no amount of rehearsals in front of her mirror, in front of Aubrey, in front of her mother, could have ever prepared her for this. Nothing in the world could have prepared her for what it would feel like, staring right into Chloe’s face, with tears running down both their cheeks.

Not when just two years ago she felt like her entire life ended.

“Chloe,” Beca begins, though it comes out on a cracked whisper because of how tight her throat feels. She gulps for air, searching Chloe’s eyes for strength.

She finds love. Pure, unadulterated love.

“Chloe,” she tries again. “You once asked me why I loved you. Why still I love you,” Beca says, eyes serious and dark as they take in the emotions running across Chloe’s face. Chloe nods, her mouth twitching into a half-smile as the memory consumes them.

“What I said then, I’ve thought about it every day since, because every day that I got to be a part of your life was a blessing. I used to think it was a curse of some kind because you didn’t remember me at all, but to have loved and lost is better than nothing at all and I am more than grateful that you let me back into your life.”

“How could I not?” Chloe responds instantly, even though she didn’t mean to say it aloud. She blushes at the small laughs from their audience and the amused grin Beca shoots her way.

"Now – now I think about why I want to marry you and the truth is,” Beca says, choking up a little. “The truth is, I don’t have just one single reason. I would show you and tell you, every day for the rest of our lives. I want to marry you because for me, there’s nobody else and there hasn’t been anybody else, really, since the moment you pulled me over to that damned a capella table.” She grins sheepishly at their officiant, who shrugs, gesturing at her to carry on with a small smile. “I've never looked at anyone like I look at you; I’ve never forgotten anything about you, but I can say that nobody has ever looked at me the way you look at me.”

“How do I look at you?” Chloe asks, softly, forgetting momentarily that they’re meant to be exchanging vows. Beca had forgotten momentarily as well.

“Like you can’t believe I’m yours; like you think I’m the best person in the world. And that,” Beca says, voice wavering. “That has never changed. Not once.” Beca clears her throat. “I know, because it’s exactly how I feel when I look at you and I want to share that with you every day for the rest of our lives.”

Beca takes a breath.

She can breathe.

She has been able to breathe for a while now, without that suffocating, sinking feeling.

Still, she inhales greedily, taking in this new life – this new blessing.

“I love you,” she finishes, finally.

“By the power vested in me by the state of Califo…”

Beca’s not sure that she hears the rest of that sentence because Chloe is mouthing the words “I love you, too” and they’re leaning in for their first kiss as a married couple.

The first day of the rest of their lives.

“I am so happy right now,” Chloe murmurs, lips brushing against Beca’s tenderly. “I’ve never been happier.”

Beca can agree to that. "So am I. As much as I love being with you and all our friends and family, the very best part is you, Chlo. Knowing that my life is joined to yours, for better or worse."

"For better," Chloe says gently, cupping Beca’s cheek. “I’ve always known how much better life is with you.”

She says it with the certainty of Chloe Beale who has been a part of Beca’s life since she was only a freshman in university; she says it with the certainty of somebody who has spent two lifetimes finding her way back to Beca.

And Beca has only been happy to wait.

Beca's eyes glisten as she holds Chloe closer, pressing a soft kiss to her lips again. Chloe tightens her arms around the back of Beca’s neck, shifting closer as best as she can. There is music playing somewhere – there will always be music involved – but Beca savors this moment. She savors how in love with Chloe she is and how real this is.

Through everything – through all the pain and reconnecting – Beca has never been more sure of anything other than being right here, right now and how this is where she’s meant to be.

Here, amidst all the mess, all the broken pieces, and the strings holding them together.

Most importantly, it's theirs. Selfishly, completely, beautifully theirs.

Their life together. She wouldn’t change a thing.

And they’ve only just begun.

“I’m here,” Chloe whispers, amidst the applause from their friends and family. “I’m here, Bec.”

She’ll never forget this.


End file.
